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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015253">Zoey’s Extraordinary Guide To Grief</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast'>atlas_oulast</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loss of Parent(s), Panic Attacks, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, does zoey have high functioning anxiety? yes, team zoey has 2 hands repreSENT!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:53:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>61,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Or; How To Grieve When You’ve Been Grieving For Years But Now Your Father Is Actually Dead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zoey Clarke/Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Simon Haynes, Zoey Clarke/Simon Haynes/Max Richman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Zero Day (And Maybe Don’t Run Five Miles In The Rain)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The immediate aftermath of Mitch’s passing.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ok so who else was fuckin destroyed by the finale? everyone? okey.</p><p>tw (obv) for major character death &amp; grieving</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey Clarke’s dad was <em>really</em> dead.</p><p>In essence, he’d been dead for a long while now. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been able to speak to her... other than through heart songs.</p><p>His final song had no lyrics, no music... but he’d danced with her to a music only he could hear, and it raised questions about if her power was somehow connected to her father... but that was a question for later.</p><p>For now, she tried to comfort her sobbing mother, until she couldn’t take it anymore and slipped out, told Howie she’d be back, and ran.</p><p>Zoey ran through the dark and cold night, ignoring the freezing wind whipping around her, drying the tears still running down her cheeks, just as fast as she was.</p><p>She couldn’t stay there. </p><p>The air had been heavy in the house, like a cloud had descended upon it and was resting on the roof, raining tears and a humidity unfelt physically but wreaking havoc mentally.</p><p>The cloud that was now outside, beginning a sprinkle.</p><p>She was sorry for running, leaving her dad and sister in law Emily with her mom. But she couldn’t fucking take it in that house.</p><p>As she ran, Zoey contemplated texting her mom that she was sorry and would be back in the morning, but her throat was raw from running so hard, the rain was beginning to pick up, and all she could do was grit her teeth and add some speed.</p><p>She only realised when she was gasping outside her apartment door that she really did just run five miles to her apartment. In the rain and cold at two in the morning.</p><p>Zoey also only realised that she was gasping for breath, searching for her keys in her purse when a door opened behind her.</p><p>“Child, come here,” she heard Mo say, and it was all Zoey could do to run into her best friend’s arms and sob.</p><p>“I’m not even going to ask,” Mo said quietly, awkwardly moving them backwards into her apartment without letting go of Zoey.</p><p>“He’s gone.... he’s actually gone now,” Zoey gasped, grabbing onto Mo’s sparkly, densely sequined golden robe like a lifeline. </p><p>Mo got her onto her couch, and Zoey collapsed onto it gratefully, curling up on her side on it.</p><p>“Goodness gracious, you’re just a drowned little animal, aren’t you?” Mo said quietly, her tone not matching her words as she tried to lighten the mood. “So what did Max do this time?”</p><p>“It’s not Max,” Zoey gasped, noticing just now the rasp in her voice. “It’s my dad... he’s gone.”</p><p>“Oh.” Mo was uncannily quiet with that, realising the weight of the situation. “I’m going to get you a cup of tea and one of my caftans, you’ll catch cold in those clothes and you sound like shit.”</p><p>“Didn’t know you were a motherly purponent of old wives tales at heart,” Zoe joked absently, flatly.</p><p>Mo returned with a large plush purple blanket and a pink and green polka dotted caftan. “And no, I don’t ever wear this one. The dots were 2009 Mo’s style, not 2020 Mo’s thing.”</p><p>“Please don’t watch me.” Zoey was shaking. Not at the thought of being naked in front of Mo, but she had the biggest goosebumps she’d ever seen right now and she was <em>so cold.</em></p><p>“That’s half of what the blanket is for, girl. But I will be in the kitchen watching the tea kettle while you get the hell out of those clothes. Seriously, you sound like your throat was ripped out, stomped on, lined with diamonds and put back in without anesthesia.”</p><p>“Maybe they could’ve used some of the morphine they used on my dad.”</p><p>“Get those clothes off and get rid of the lifeless joking, it’s not flattering,” Mo said, turning around and walking away to the kitchen.</p><p>Zoey slid down to the floor, throwing the blanket over her head, and she stripped off her wet clothes, leaving on her underwear, even if it was wet and sitting on a wet butt was uncomfortable. And her bra, because Mo was <em>several</em> sizes larger than her and the last thing she needed tonight was to inadvertently flash Mo.</p><p>After she was all changed, she left her wet clothes on the floor and moved back up to the couch, wrapped tightly in the blanket. She heard the tea kettle whistle, and a few minutes later, Mo came back with a cup of hot tea.</p><p>Zoey nodded in thanks and took the cup, relishing the warmth and half considering dumping it all over her to warm up her violently shivering and goosebumped body. </p><p>“You really should take a hot bath, but my hospitality draws the line there.”</p><p>Zoey took a sip of the tea, recoiling at the sudden heat and a now burnt tongue.</p><p>“I really could’ve just gone to my own apartment and gotten into my own dry clothes, you didn’t have to do this.”</p><p>“Mmm, but I did, because <em>you</em> would have collapsed on your floor in wet clothes and cried yourself to sleep, and woken up at noon, still wet, with pneumonia.”</p><p>“Sounds about right,” Zoey said, blowing on the tea this time before taking a sip. “I kinda ran all the way here from my parent’s house... Max drove me there and said he’d pick me up whenever I wanted, even if it was two am...”</p><p>“It’s three thirty five, girl, but I think he still would have picked you up, rather than have you run through the night in the dark while a thunderstorm runs through. You could have been struck by lightning, for heaven’s sake. Or, I don’t know, gotten pneumonia, been raped and pillaged, or slipped and fallen without having a LifeAlert and being found dead in the morning.”</p><p>“Number one, the odds of getting struck by lighting might actually be better than my dad having PSP, so maybe I should be more careful. Number two... don’t feel like being lectured when my dad’s dead... number three... you have a LifeAlert?”</p><p>Mo held it up. “It pays to be prepared. Drink your tea and think yourself through,  a LifeAlert isn’t going to save you if you fall mentally.”</p><p>“Wish it would,” Zoey responded emptily, sipping her tea.</p><p>There wasn’t any more conversation for a long time, Zoey drinking her tea, feeling her throat inflame further nonetheless. The next thing she remembered, she woke up on Mo’s couch.</p><p>She sat up, wondering Why she was on Mo’s couch, and What had happened last night, and also why her throat felt like it was on fire, until it all came back and hit her.</p><p>Zoey laid back down, flipping the blanket up onto her head and hoping to go back to sleep without thinking <em>too</em> many existential thoughts about how she’d never see her dad again, she’d never talk to him again, never hear him use the Taboo buzzer again, or have him sing a heart song-</p><p>“I know you’re awake, and if you want to go back to sleep I think your bed would be a lot more comfortable,” Mo said, walking in.</p><p>“Did I fall asleep?”</p><p>“Clearly. It’s noon, Zoey. Not that I’m judging, if there was ever a time to sleep in, now would be it, but not on my couch. I was hoping, at three in the morning, you’d calm down enough to call one of your boyfriends and go to your own bed, and then you calmed down enough to fall asleep.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mo... for everything,” Zooey said quietly. “Sorry for crashing on your couch.”</p><p>“You deserve this much. I don’t want to see any self esteem drops in you, it’s clearly low enough as it is. If you need a couch to crash on that’s more comfortable then the brick you have, mine is always available. Unless I’m having sex.”</p><p>“Thanks, Mo.”</p><p>“Now, would you like some breakfast? If today is a drowning feelings in food day, I’m happy to enable that.”</p><p>“Actually... I think I’m gonna just go home... across the hallway. And probably my parent’s home when I’m emotionally ready.”</p><p>“Don’t feel like you have to go back immediately, that house is gonna be full of heavy feelings and maybe strangers to deal with, bringing food. Which is nice, but it gets annoying later.”</p><p>“I’ll take it slow. I promise.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’d better.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>mo is Best Bitch i love them to bits</p><p>the food thing ik for a fact; we peaked with <s>heaven</s> the mac &amp; cheese w/ bread crumbs in a casserole pan and everything after that was just Annoying.</p><p>hmu on tumblr @team-zoey-has-two-hands</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The First Day (And It Turns Out That Comforting Your Devastated Mother Isn’t Very Easy!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey gets pushed back into her parent’s home far too soon, and finds herself denying her emotions out of guilt.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i love zoey.... but i also love hurting her! so yeet!</p><p>the heart song in this is heaven was needing a hero by jo dee messina. it’s a good listen for the whole chapter tbh.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> 5 Missed Messages From <b> David</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <b> David: Zoey, I need you to come back. [5:42 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>David: Mom’s a mess and I’m not doing this alone [7:34 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>David: You promised we’d take care of her together [9:34 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>David: Zoey, I need you back here now [10:11 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>David: Mom’s worried about you [12:31 PM]</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>1 Missed Message From <b>Max</b> </em>
</p><p><b> Max: I’m here whenever you need me, call me anytime. I’ll pick you up when you’re ready. [6:31 AM] </b> </p><p>
  <em>1 Missed Message from <b>Simon</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <b> Simon: Call me whenever, I’ll bring your grief kit. It’s my turn to be there for you. </b>
</p><p>So at least <em> some </em> of the men in her life cared how she was doing. </p><p>Zoey <em>had</em> intended on going to her apartment, changing, and going right back to sleep, but she’d only gotten to the changing part before her phone buzzed again.</p><p>
  <b>David: You’re not dead too, right? [12:41 PM] </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I just woke up.</b>
</p><p>Zoey groaned and slowly rolled off her bed, landing purposefully on her stomach on the floor.</p><p>Her dad was <em>dead</em>. She would never see him again.</p><p>And now she had to make sure her mom didn’t become the mom from Next To Normal.</p><p>Zoey could <em> feel</em> the anger from David through his text, five miles away. And she couldn’t blame him, she’d left him alone with their grieving mother in the house where their father had just died.... yeah, she was still processing.</p><p>She went into the bathroom, flicking on the light and physically recoiling at her reflection. Zoey’s bright red hair was matted and poofed up to three times it’s actual size, like she was Princess Anna or something. Her eyes had bags the size of the Pacific Ocean, even if she’d slept <em>plenty</em>.</p><p>Zoey stunk, but she just took off her navy blue sweatpants and ‘I Programmed My Own Demise’ t-shirt and then sprayed on a bit of perfume, rolled on a million pounds of deodorant, brushed her hair and pulled it into a bun at the nape of her neck, and changed from her pajamas to jeans and a black shirt.</p><p>She did <em>not</em> want to go. Zoey would much prefer to stay where she was and eat ice cream and cry.</p><p>Going would mean comforting her devastated mother, accepting food from neighbours who didn’t actually care about them, just wanted to test a casserole on them, and sitting on the couch where her father had sat, his spot noticeably empty.</p><p>Zoey drove to the house, almost taking long routes every chance she got, but stopping and continuing on her usual route before she could actually take the turn. </p><p>She sat in her car in the driveway for a good long moment, before taking a deep breath and getting out.</p><p>Zoey unlocked the door with her house key, that she’d kept even after moving out for college, decorated with washi tape from her scrapbooking phase and ‘Zoey’s Key!’ in tiny peacock green script.</p><p>Inside the house was nothing short of chaos.</p><p>Every neighbour she never knew she never knew was in there, bustling around like it was a housewarming or something.</p><p>Zoey found her mom on the couch, having a wine at noon (all the more concerning because her mom hardly drank) with Mrs. Sherpert, the next door neighbour, a lady in her early 60s who had great grandchildren living with her, as well as roughly 12 cats.</p><p>“Mom,” Zoey breathed, and Mrs. Sherpert murmured something to her mother and then stood up, headed for the kitchen. Probably cooking a tuna melt. Mrs. Sherpert could make a <em>mean</em> tuna melt. </p><p>“Come here, Zoey,” Her mother said softly, and Zoey sat down slowly on the couch, next to her mom, careful not to sit in her dad’s spot. </p><p>Her mom slowly wrapped her arms around Zoey, almost robotically, and Zoey reciprocated it, wrapping her arms behind her mom’s back, hand ending up on her forearm, the other going over her chest, meeting the other hand in a protective cage of a hug. Her mom put a hand over Zoey’s folded pair.</p><p>“I was worried about you,” Her mother said quietly. Her voice was full of emotion, but emotion bridled and controlled, at a perfect balance of sad, but not hysterical, and not indifferent. Zoey knew her mom was really teetering towards hysterical, but she kept it all in check, exact proportions of emotion present. </p><p>Her mother always wanted things to be perfect.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Mom... after it happened, I... I... I ran home, and I ended up crashing in a friend’s apartment.”</p><p>“It’s okay... I’m just glad you’re safe.” Her practiced tone carefully concealed the tiniest shake in her voice, almost as if she’d been preparing exactly what she’d say on this day from the moment her husband had been diagnosed. But Zoey knew her mother, she couldn’t hide the shake even if she hid it in the tiniest cavern, couldn’t hide the wet area directly under her eyes.</p><p>“I’m going to be here every second you need me, Mom,” Zoey said.</p><p>“It’s okay, Zoey... you need to take care of yourself, and I’ll take care of me, too.”</p><p>“David and I promised we’d take care of you, you need us, and we need you. We all need each other right now, and I’m not going anywhere.”</p><p>Zoey realised just then that she hadn’t called work to inform them that no, there was no way she was coming in today, but Max and Simon would probably take care of it, knowing that her dad was now... dead.</p><p>But her stupid, selfish thoughts about work and a love triangle went away when she heard the music start, and her mother begin to sing.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I came by today to see you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Though I had to let you know</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If I knew the last time that I held you was the last time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'd have held you and never let go</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh it's kept me awake night wonderin'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I lie in the dark, just asking why? </em>
</p><p>Her mom’s voice was soft, vulnerable, and raspy, all the practiced, painstakingly portioned emotion gone, as Zoey copied down the lyrics in her mind to look them up on Genius later, not that it was hard to tell what the song was about.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I've always been told you won't be called home until it's your time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I guess Heaven was needing a hero<br/>
Somebody just like you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Brave enough to stand up for what you believe and follow it through</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When I try to make it make sense in my mind</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The only conclusion I come to</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is that Heaven was needing a hero like you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Her mom looked wistful, almost in wonderment. Maybe imagining him in heaven, walking and talking in a way only Zoey had gotten to experience right before he died. The thought made Zoey’s heart ache guiltily. </p><p>
  <em> I remember the last time I saw you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh you held your head up proud.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I laughed inside when I saw how you were standing out in the crowd.</em>
</p><p>Zoey realised that she couldn’t remember the last time she saw her dad acting ‘normal,’ before ‘normal’ became almost never seeing him anywhere but on his spot on the couch, eyes uncannily large, staring almost into nothing, and the almost constant haunting uncertainty of whether or not he knew what was going on.</p><p>Until the heart songs had began, and finally, she’d gotten another chance to see her dad walking around, acting like nothing was wrong. Zoey realised that she had been downright <em>craving</em> his songs every time she’d gone to her parent’s house, and the lack of him and just the bare <em>hope</em> that maybe she’d see him sing felt like withdrawal as she floated underwater, everything dulled but her mother’s yearning, almost <em>broken</em> voice.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You're such a part of who I am.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now that part will just be void.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No matter how much I need you now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Heaven needed you more.</em>
</p><p>Her mom had long since gotten up from the couch, and now, she strode quickly into the bonus room across from the living room, where a now empty hospital bed sat. She ran her hands over the soft blanket, her dad’s favourite, that was now neatly tucked in under the mattress, the top folded over, and the whole thing was cold, nobody under the blanket.</p><p>
  <em> ‘Cause Heaven was needing a hero.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Somebody just like you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Brave enough to stand up for what you believe and follow it though.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When I try to make it make sense in my mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The only conclusion I come to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Is that Heaven was needing a hero like you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, Heaven was needing a hero, that's you.</em>
</p><p>Her mother turned around slowly, away from the empty bed, and returned to her spot on the couch, sinking down slowly, wrapping her arms back around Zoey, and Zoey helping to resume the exact embrace they had had before the song had begun.</p><p>“What can I do, Mom? Be honest,” Zoey asked, voice barely above a whisper, suddenly choked. Tears had been filling her eyes up as her mom had sung, but she was just now realising that they were there, and she looked down at her lap, blinking furiously. </p><p>No, this was <em>so</em> not happening. </p><p>Zoey decided, right then and there, that she was going to push through this. She would not cry in front of her family, or anyone else, maybe not even on her own, because she’d gotten heart songs, she’d gotten chances and experiences that nobody else had gotten, so she didn’t deserve to cry in front of family, or anyone else.</p><p>Besides, they needed her. Zoey would be the rock and they could lean on her as much as they needed.</p><p>“Oh, Zoey, it’s okay,” her mom said quietly, reaching to touch Zoey’s cheek, but Zoey only allowed her mother’s touch to linger for a second, before taking her mother’s soft, bony, aged hand in her young, yet harder hand, and guiding her mother’s hand to her lap, lingering before letting go, Zoey silently staring at her own lap, before looking back up, a brave face having replaced her broken one.</p><p>“No, seriously. Let me help, Mom, it’s what I’m here for. Tell me what you <em>need.</em></p><p>Her mom sighed. “I... I hate to ask this of you, but... could you just stay here, and keep me company? Your brother left a bit before you came, he had to get to work. I have to talk to people, lots of people, and... I don’t want to do it alone.”</p><p>“Or,” Zoey began, straightening up some, “I can do the talking for you, and you can do whatever the heck you want. I’ll call the cemetery, arrange things, answer the door, anything you want while you do whatever you need.”</p><p>“I hate to put that on you, but that <em>would</em> be a huge help... Nancy’s here cleaning with Howie and cooking and honestly, it’s stressing me out and I don’t really want he here right now, and I really don’t want to answer the door or make the calls I know I need to...”</p><p>“Relax. I have it all under control, just tell me who to call and I’ll get it done.”</p><p>Her mother gave her a list of numbers that she’d written on lined paper in neat cursive and hung up on the refrigerator, numbers like the one for the Peaceful Hill Cemetery, the numbers for every single relative that needed to be informed and invited to the funeral, the florist, the catering company for a vigil or a wake, and so forth.</p><p>Zoey got her mom a big helping of Mrs. Sherpert’s tuna melt, thanked her, and told her that the family wanted to be alone right now, and Mrs. Sherpert was somewhat annoying and smelled like cat, but she seemed to understand, and she left.</p><p>Zoey sat next to her mom and made call after call after call, attending to her mom’s every request, from closing the blinds, to not letting the neighbours see her, to getting her more tuna melt, to a simple hug.</p><p>Zoey realised that it was <em>so</em> late when Howie suggested that Maggie go to bed, because <em>apparently</em> it was ten already and she needed sleep.</p><p>Even after she’d gone to bed, Zoey refused to yield, refusing politely Howie’s suggestion that she eat something, and calling another relative.</p><p>After she got off the phone with Aunt Lorna, her dad’s great aunt on his mother’s side, Howie was back, and there to take Zoey’s phone out of her hand.</p><p>“Take a break, and eat something, or, I don’t know, go home and sleep, yourself,” Howie said, in a very dad-like I Am So Not Joking tone that Zoey refused to burst into tears over.</p><p>“I’m fine, Howie,” Zoey said.</p><p>“You just spent ten hours making phone calls and comforting your mother, and you have not eaten anything all day.”</p><p>“I’m really not hungry,” Zoey protested. </p><p>“Don’t tell me that you aren’t hungry, tell me what you want to eat,” Howie pushed. </p><p>Zoey knew that she wouldn’t win this, so she got up herself and got herself a small portion of Mrs. Roland’s mac &amp; cheese with breadcrumbs. Howie followed her to the kitchen, and grabbed the serving spoon from her, plopping two extra spoonfuls onto Zoey’s (admittedly awfully bare) plate. </p><p>“You’re going to eat, and then you’re going to either shower or go to sleep, either at your own home or somewhere here. I am more than willing to force you to take care of yourself,” he said, taking her plate from her and sticking it into the microwave.</p><p>“Seriously, Howie, I’m fi-“</p><p>“You think I haven’t heard that one before? Nobody is ever okay after someone dies, but plenty of people maintain that they’re fine for an unhealthy amount of time. So unless you’re a complete psychopath, which I know for a fact you aren’t, you’re a sweet and deeply caring girl, you are so not fine.” Howie’s tone was still the fatherly I Am So Not Joking, but it was also kind, and genuinely caring.</p><p>And she really wouldn’t ever convince him that she was fine. Even though she was. She couldn’t feel anything other than dizzy from not eating in however many hours, so she was fine.</p><p>“Okay, fine,” Zoey said, getting a fork from the drawer and sticking it in her now steaming hot mac &amp; cheese. “I will eat this, and then I will go home and shower,” she said.</p><p>“Wonderful. May I get you a side of talking through your feelings? That’s optional for right now, by the way, but I’m willing to serve it whenever you want it.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m good with macaroni for right now,” Zoey said, climbing up onto one of the stools to eat.</p><p>The food felt foreign in her mouth, and it didn’t taste like much of anything besides sawdust, but she ate it, careful to eat slowly and not shovel it into her mouth to get it over with, like she wanted to.</p><p>After eating, she promised Howie that she’d be back in the morning, to which Howie told her that she didn’t have to, to which she told him that she wanted to, which was a complete and total lie. </p><p>Zoey got her purse, and headed out into the cold wind and rain, clearly having not changed much since last night. She made a mental note to check the forecast when she got home.</p><p>Tonight, at least, she had her car, and she drove back to her apartment in complete silence, not even turning on the radio. </p><p>When she got home, she put her sweatpants and ‘I Programmed My Own Demise’ t-shirt back on, pulled her hair up into a messy bun, and rather than go to sleep, or even shower, she grabbed her laptop and sat cross legged on her bed, going straight into her work file, diving right into work that she should’ve done a week ago, but she hadn’t, because her dad had been dying and Joan had told her to spend as much time as she could with him.</p><p>He was gone, so she might as well get back to work.</p><p>Next to her, her phone lit up. She’d silenced it this morning on her way out the door, and ignored when it’d lit up with notifications every time today.</p><p>Zoey sighed resignedly and picked up her phone, scrolling through her notifications.</p><p>
  <em>2 Missed Texts From <b>Joan</b></em>
</p><p>
  <b>Joan: Max Richman &amp; Simon Haynes told me what happened, feel free to take as much time as you need. [1:23 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Joan: However, it would be nice if you would respond, so that I know you’re alive and don’t need to be looking to hire a replacement for you. [10:43 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: Sorry, boss. I’ll be in in the morning. [10:44 PM] </b>
</p><p>Zoey somewhat regretted giving Joan her number. </p><p>Oh well. She exited that conversation and went to her next most recent one.</p><p>
  <em> 1 Missed Message From <b>Simon.</b></em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Are you alright? [6:53 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: Sorry, I’m okay. [10:44 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Should I come over?[10:45 PM] </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’m just going to turn in for the night, my mom needed help making calls today, so that’s what I was doing all day. [10:47 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: I’ll be here if you change your mind. I set the text tone for you to a Japanese heavy metal band’s song and I’m turning the volume all the way up. [10:47 PM] </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: You don’t need to do that. [10:50 PM] </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: It does happen to be an extremely catchy song.[10:50 PM] </b>
</p><p>Zoey moved on.</p><p>
  <em>8 Missed Messages From <b>Tobin Batra</b></em>
</p><p>Oh, this would be <em>fun.</em></p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Are you planning on coming to work today? Or ever? [1:10 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Why is Simon Haynes acting so weird and defensive over you not being here? [2:31 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Could you at least respond? [3:05 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Joan doesn’t seem to care that you’re not here, I’d be worried about your job. Or did you get fired? Is that what it is? [3:12 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Did Ava hire you to the sixth floor, and now you’re ghosting everyone? [3:29 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: For the record, I like you as our team leader. Could you please stay on this floor? [3:31 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Leif says hi, and that you’d better not be with Ava on the sixth floor. [3:36 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Are you dead? Should I be looking for a body? Did your murder podcasts finally catch up to you? [6:54 PM] </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: Apologies, Tobin. I’ll be in tomorrow, and I’ll explain then. I’m doing a bit of work from home right now, where are you guys at on the B-3 codes? [10:55 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Tobin Batra: Jesus fuck, I’d be Very concerned about your job. And we didn’t work on that today, we were focusing on the M-1 because we didn’t know what you wanted with the B-3. [10:57 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’ll do stuff to the B-3 from here, and get you guys up to speed in the morning. [10:59 PM] </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Zoey took the time to read the five messages Max had sent her over the course of the day, each growing more and more frantic, and she sent him a message assuring him that she was fine and going to bed, and then she could not physically bring herself to respond to more texts, so she turned on her work alarm in case she fell asleep, and shifted her attention to coding, which she did until it was 4am and she forced herself to take an hourlong power nap before having to get ready for work.</p><p>Zoey was so not ready to go to work.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>in case you couldn’t tell, i know jack shit about programming. i can do html tags for bold, italic, page breaks, and strikethrough, and the way ao3 works for me i put in the html tags while writing (and i write in my notes app to add to the ~amazingness~</p><p>my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, im about to start putting zep on my blog and the people who follow me for musicals content are Not Ready.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Second Day (And Eating Food Occasionally Isn’t A Particularly Bad Idea)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey goes back to work and starts making up for all the ‘slacking’ she’s been doing, and hears a heart song from both members of her love triangle and her sister in law.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>songs in this chapter include:</p><p><b>- stand by you</b> by the pretenders</p><p><b> - the greatest man i never knew</b> by reba mcentire</p><p><b> - all of me</b> by john legend (was this in the show already? yes. but did i feel the need to put it in? absolutely.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey had the distinct honour of having to get up at five in the morning, having slept an hour, finally shower, actually get dressed again, and drag herself to work.</p><p>Her hours were nine to five, which happened to be a song, a song that the people on the street around her sang as Zoey walked to work, and she got there at six, slogging through the empty lobby, the empty elevator, and into the empty fourth floor. Not even Joan was there yet.</p><p>Zoey, utterly exhausted, considered taking a nap at her desk or in one of the egg chairs with the cover that you could pull down (they had BlueTooth, too), but decided against it, and logged into her computer, beginning work hours and hours early.</p><p>The first human beings she saw were the food people who came in at seven, filling up the cereal bar and restocking utensils and dishes, whom she silently waved at before ducking back into work.</p><p>Zoey did not look up from her computer again until she realised that someone was shaking her shoulder, and she took a moment to process before jumping a mile, because someone was shaking her shoulder.</p><p>She snapped around, her red ponytail whipping around with her, to see an extremely concerned looking Joan.... and Simon... and Tobin... and Leif and Tulsi and Derek and Andy, they were all watching from their desks, and the sunlight was brighter in the floor to ceiling windows. A clock on the wall told her that it was nine thirty.</p><p>“Hi?” Zoey gasped.</p><p>“You look like shit, and you haven’t been responding. Haynes was tapping your shoulder for half an hour,” Joan said bluntly</p><p>“Oh... sorry. I came in early and kinda got lost in it... I’m fine,” Zoey said, barely suppressing a humongous yawn that threatened to burst out against her will.</p><p>Looking across the board at Joan, then Simon, and then Tobin... they were not impressed.</p><p>“You can go home, Zoey... we can survive without you for another day,” Joan said. </p><p>“I’ve been AWOL for too long, I’m gonna get this section and 22-5 done, I swear,” Zoey said determinedly, realising too late her determined tone strayed a bit to the crazed side.</p><p>“You completed the <em>entire</em> B-3 section last night, and you got massive amounts of YR-9 done.”</p><p>“Yeah, so I’m going to finish YR-9 and 22-5.”</p><p>“Jesus Christ, Zoey... you’re allowed to take a minute to grieve. Call in sick for a week, that’s what I did,” Simon said.</p><p>“I need to work... saves me from calling my entire extended family again, just let me work. Seriously. This is a big job and I don’t want to let any of you down.”</p><p>“Thank god day after tomorrow is a Saturday,” Joan muttered, giving up and walking off to her office. </p><p>Zoey didn’t tell her that she planned to come in on Saturday for a few hours before her family began trickling into town for the Sunday funeral.</p><p>She pushed it out of her mind, gave Simon and her team reassuring smiles, promised she’d go to them when she needed them, and dove back in.</p><p>Zoey didn’t even know how long it had been until she heard someone start singing. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, why you look so sad, the tears are in your eyes.</em>
</p><p>It was Simon, standing off to the side, several feet away from her desk, watching her, obviously concerned.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Come on and come to me now, and don't be ashamed to cry,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let me see you through, 'cause I've seen the dark side too.</em>
</p><p>Another voice chimed in and harmonised from across the room.</p><p>
  <em> When the night falls on you, you don't know what to do,</em>
</p><p>Max and Simon’s voices harmonised beautifully, hauntingly.</p><p>Max didn’t work here anymore, but she’d seen Jessica singing Happier with Simon when she was also definitely not there</p><p>
  <em> Nothing you confess could make me love you less</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll stand by you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll stand by you, won't let nobody hurt you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll stand by you.</em>
</p><p>The backup dancers had kicked in, every single programmer getting up to dance with Simon and Max around her desk, reaching out to her but never far enough.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>So if you're mad, get mad, don't hold it all inside</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come on and talk to me now</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hey there, what you got to hide?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I get angry too, well, I'm alive like you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When you're standing at the cross roads</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And don't know which path to choose</em>
</p><p>Simon reached out and grabbed her by the middle, soaking her up in his embrace. Zoey leaned, no, <em>melted</em> into his embrace, before her broke away, and Max did the same thing, Zoey finding herself melting into him all the same as she had with Simon.</p><p>
  <em>Let me come along, 'cause even if you're wrong</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll stand by you,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll stand by you, won't let nobody hurt you,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll stand by you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Baby, even to your darkest hour, and I'll… </em>
</p><p>The two men trailed off, standing both right behind Zoey, each with a hand on her shoulder. Simon on her right, Max on her left. The two walked away as the music faded, and then everything returned to normal, with Max not being there.</p><p>Her phone buzzed.</p><p>
  <b>Max: You okay? You didn’t respond last night and I probably should’ve checked on you in person for real before this.... how we doing? [9:37 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m at work right now, and after I’m going back to my parent’s house. [9:40 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: Seriously, you’re at work? You literally have an excuse that nobody can deny for not being there, and you’re there? [9:41 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I spent all day yesterday at the house helping my mom, and I haven’t been the most productive employee as of late, so I decided to, y’know, give my employer a reason to pay me. [9:41 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: I’ll meet you at your parent’s house at five thirty? [9:42 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: Works for me. [9:43 AM]</b>
</p><p>Zoey was absolutely dreading going back there.</p><p>_______________________</p><p>After not stopping for any sort of meal and completing multiple sections of code in a productive hurricane that earned her a high-five from Tobin and a round of applause when he announced it to everyone that Zoey had just done essentially four days worth of work in one day, as well as tell her he might make her an honorary Brogrammer. Which was a genuinely nice gesture.</p><p>Too bad her smile was forced.</p><p>Zoey slipped out of the building just before five, in order to avoid Simon, and got on the Antioch line at the BART station two blocks down, riding as far as Glen Park, and then walking the rest of the way to her parent’s house. </p><p>She saw Max’s car parked out front, and she sighed before walking up to the door and letting herself in.</p><p>Max was already in the house, talking quietly to her mom and David, and Emily was off to the side on her feet. Zoey sat down next to her mom, since Max was across from her on the ottoman. </p><p>“Hi, Zoey, did you have a good day at work?” Her mom asked her, holding her arm gently.</p><p>“It was fine... I finished two big sections of code.”</p><p>Max’s eyebrows went up. “Really?”</p><p>“Mhm,” Zoey murmured. “Tobin says he might make me an honorary Brogrammer.”</p><p>“Even I didn’t get to be a Brogrammer... you should cherish that, Zoey,” Max said, smiling softly at her.</p><p>Zoey didn’t really smile back.</p><p>The conversation faded into the background after a few minutes, a distinct underwater feeling surrounding her. Probably the lack of food in the past few days. </p><p>Zoey was about to get up in search of sustenance when she noticed Emily.</p><p>Emily was standing off to the side, off kind of in the hall and kind of still in the living room, and she picked up a picture of Zoey’s dad, Zoey crumpling up inside her the emotion that wanted to well up.</p><p>
  <em> The greatest man I never knew lived just down the hall,<br/>
and every day we said hello but never touched at all.</em>
</p><p>Emily was holding the picture to her chest, her other hand on her swollen stomach as she stared up at the sky and sang, her voice delicate and soft.</p><p>
  <em> He was in his paper. I was in my room.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How was I to know he thought I hung the moon?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The greatest man I never knew came home late every night,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He never had to much to say. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Too much was on his mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I never really knew him, oh and now it seems so sad.</em>
</p><p>Zoey followed Emily as she almost floated down the hall, still holding the picture. It was now held out in front of her, and in the kitchen she twirled around, holding it out like a teddy bear as she spun with it and sung. </p><p>
  <em>Everything he gave to us took all he had.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then the days turned into years, and the memories to black and white.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He grew cold like an old winter wind blowing across my life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The greatest words I never heard I guess I'll never hear.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man I thought could never die has been dead almost a year.</em>
</p><p>Had Emily ever even really had her father in law before he’d gotten really bad? He’d been okay at the wedding, but he’d been feeling not great lately around that time, and he’d gone to the doctor a week or two later.</p><p>And everything had changed quickly after that.</p><p>He really had been dead almost a year... it’d started to get really bad about a year and a half ago, but the past year or so were really horrible, never really getting better after that. </p><p>The average life expectancy after diagnosis with PSP was six or seven years, and her dad had only lived four. </p><p>Emily had really only gotten about a year or so of her father in law, before he’d been diagnosed and everything went downhill so, so fast. And she certainly hadn’t been savouring moments, plucking them out as they happened and saving them in a keepsake box or a locket. She hadn’t known.</p><p>None of them had known.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh, he was good at business but there was business left to do.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He never said he loved me. Guess he thought I knew.</em>
</p><p>Emily floated back down the hall, almost ethereally, setting down the picture back on the table and going over to the chair by the couch, sitting down slowly.</p><p>Zoey got up, saying that she was going to go get something to eat, and asked if anyone wanted anything while she was up.</p><p>“Oh, I want something, but I’ll just get it myself,” Emily said, getting right back up.</p><p>Zoey got up, herself, ignoring the huge wave of dizziness and the momentary blinding of her vision, walking like nothing was the matter to the kitchen.</p><p>Zoey got herself a piece of Simon’s lasagna, and Emily took out the dish with the tuna melt in it.</p><p>“Almost the entire fridge is casserole pans... feels like a school cafeteria,” Emily commented, peeling away the piece of plastic wrap over the tuna melt, wet with condensation.</p><p>“Yeah... how are you holding up, Em?” Zoey asked. She really wasn’t particularly close to Emily, but when Zoey had stepped into her brother’s marriage after Emily performed an emotionally scarring (for Zoey) rendition of Buttons, they’d gained some degree of closeness that they didn’t have before, but it still wasn’t really at a level past Person That I Know Who Happens To Be My Sister In-Law.</p><p>“Oh, I’m fine... it’s you I should be asking about,” Emily said softly, spooning a huge helping of tuna melt onto a plate.</p><p>“No, seriously, your feelings matter too,” Zoey insisted, spooning a small portion of lasagna onto her plate. Helping other people with their feelings was normal for her now, just as long as she didn’t have to help herself with her <em>own</em> feelings.</p><p>Emily took the microwave for her food first while Zoey put the plastic wrap back over both casserole dishes. </p><p>“I never really knew him,” Emily said, voice quiet, almost like she was afraid someone else was listening. “I just... I was always trying to just pretend it wasn’t happening... and that hasn’t changed.”</p><p>“He was diagnosed pretty soon after you guys got married, right?” Zoey asked, picking up her plate and going over to where Emily was standing, right next to the microwave while her food cooked.</p><p>“Yeah... we dated for a year, but once we got engaged we got married pretty quick, and I wasn’t paying much attention to Mitch before we got married, I was all wrapped up in David. Mitch was there, he was cool with me... that was the extent of it. And then he got diagnosed and everything went downhill so, so fast...”</p><p>“I get it. You didn’t get twenty eight years with him, like David and I got. I wouldn’t know how to deal, either.”</p><p>“I’m just kinda drifting... I want to get through this and get it over with, and then have a kid,” Emily said, even quieter, taking her food out of the microwave with one second left on the clock, so that it wouldn’t beep. Zoey stuck her food in, punched in a minute, and turned back around to Emily once it had started.</p><p>Emily hoisted herself up onto one of the stools by the counter, and Zoey sat next to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. </p><p>“It’s okay to feel what you want to feel... just don’t hold it back?” Zoey suggested softly.</p><p>“David... he’s so... he’s so <em>angry</em>,” Emily breathed. “And I feel like... if I react with any emotion at all... I don’t have the right to react. All I have the right to do is comfort David and Maggie and you and be a good wife.” </p><p>Zoey realised that that was exactly how <em>she</em> felt, but inputted mental HTML tags that forced the thought to the bottom of the page, and brought  back to the very top. </p><p>“You’re allowed to feel however you want to feel, and nobody can tell you any differently. Nobody can stop you from grieving in any way you want to,” Zoey said.</p><p>“I just wish I’d gotten a chance to know him!” Emily cried, subsequently bursting into tears.</p><p>Zoey had broken the bubble around Emily, and everything was coming out. </p><p>Too bad her own bubble stayed the same, stoic and cold and made of titanium and sheer will to not <em>feel</em> in front of her family... including herself.</p><p>Zoey wrapped her arms around Emily, their food long forgotten, and Emily tucked her head under Zoey’s left arm and resting on the left of her chest, letting it all out as Zoey held her tight.</p><p>Emily cried for a good long time, long enough that Max stuck his head into the doorway to the kitchen, looking for them.</p><p>Zoey looked up at him, and then looked down at the still sobbing Emily pointedly, then back at Max.</p><p>Max nodded silently, turned around, and went back to the living room.</p><p>_________________________</p><p>After Emily was done crying her eyes out, Zoey gave her a wet paper towel to wash her face with, and the two reheated their food and brought it back to the living room.</p><p>“That was a long time to get food,” David said, his comment made in a bitter tone. Maybe not bitter towards Zoey or Emily... just bitter in general.</p><p>“We were talking,” Emily said simply, sitting back down on the chair to begin eating.</p><p>Zoey was grateful for food, since she hadn’t eaten in close to a full day, but still she ate very strategically, slow enough so that nobody could tell that she had majorly skipped the whole eating thing for really the past few days, but not so slow that she’d never get out of here.</p><p>Zoey ended up making two hours worth of calls for her mom, to finalise the people for the vigil. They were having a vigil at their house after the funeral, apparently, and her mom wanted waitstaff and catering, rather than do the smart thing and feed everyone the neighbour’s casseroles. And then she had to call the florist again, to get flowers for the house, and then call all the relatives again and make sure they were all coming to the vigil after the funeral.</p><p>It was almost nine by the time she was done, and Emily and David were long gone, her mom had gone up to bed early, and Max was the only one still downstairs in the living room with her.</p><p>“At any point, when you decide you’re done making phone calls, I’ll start making them,” Max said. “Also whenever you decide to start taking care of yourself...”</p><p>“Oh, I’m done... sorry for basically ignoring you,” Zoey said, laughing awkwardly, setting her phone down on the couch. “I had to call everyone yesterday and make sure they were informed and coming to the funeral, and now I get informed that there’s going to be a vigil...”</p><p>“When’s the last time you ate?”</p><p>“You were here. When I was in the kitchen with Emily we were getting food before it became a feelings discussion session, but then I brought the food over here and ate. So, like... six?”</p><p>“Okay, what was the last time before that?”</p><p>“Uhh... I had lunch,” Zoey lied. “At noon.”</p><p>“Did you, though?” Max was thoroughly unimpressed.</p><p>“Okay... so I haven’t eaten all day. But I swear, it’s just because I was working really hard and forgot. Apparently Simon was tapping me on the shoulder for half an hour and I was unresponsive until they brought Joan over to give me a shake.”</p><p>“Does that sound healthy to you?” Max asked. Zoey was more grateful he didn’t make a stupid comment about Simon.</p><p>“I was just working really hard and I got lost in it... you can’t tell me that that’s never happened before.”</p><p>“Point taken. When we were coding the health part of the SPRQWatch-“</p><p>“Yeah... I didn’t look up from my screen from seven in the morning to eleven at night.”</p><p>“I had to basically drag you out of your chair,” Max added. “But... it wasn’t particularly healthy then, and it’s even worse now.”</p><p>“Didn’t stay on my computer from seven to eleven,” Zoey pointed out, physically pointing to punctuate her punctual point.</p><p>“How late did you stay up the night before?”</p><p>“Okay, look. I’ll take care of myself, Max, I promise. I’m not going to become an insomniac with raging, crippling depression.”</p><p>“If you do, which I hope you don’t, but if you do, I’ll be there for you to pull you out. I’ll stand by you, Zoey.”</p><p>“You sang that to me... this morning at work,” Zoey confessed.</p><p>Max raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t there, though. Remember? I don’t work there anymore.”</p><p>“Yeah, you don’t. But a couple weeks ago, I saw... someone else, singing with someone else who works there, but she didn’t work there-“</p><p>“Jessica and Simon?”</p><p>“Jessica and Simon,” Zoey sighed. “I totally broke them up.”</p><p>“If Jessica suspected so easily that Simon was cheating, whether or not he was, that means that there was a bigger problem that you don’t know about. But that aside... what did they sing?”</p><p>“They sang Happier... fucking Happier.”</p><p>“Oh, damn. Has that happened since? I mean... seeing people who aren’t there, singing?”</p><p>“I mean, today. But both times were duets...”</p><p>“Who was I duetting with? I have to know.”</p><p>“...Simon.”</p><p>“And we were both singing Stand By You?”</p><p>“Yeah. Not the Rachel Platten Stand By You... I looked up the lyrics later and it’s by The Pretenders.”</p><p>“Oh, damn.”</p><p>“I mean... right after I got my powers, I had a dream where we were all singing and dancing, everyone I knew... but that was a dream. The Jessica and Simon duet and the you and Simon duets were real... I mean, as far as I know.”</p><p>“Huh. So you can hear people who aren’t there, but only in duets?”</p><p>“So far.” Zoey opened her mouth to tell him about what had happened the night her dad had died, but she shut it before she said anything, replacing those words with, “I’m pretty tired... I think I’m going to go home.”</p><p>“Let me drive you, it’s raining out,” Max insisted.</p><p>“Again? Seriously?” Zoey groaned. “That’s, like, the third night in a row, plus all day all three days.”</p><p>“It’s going to be raining all the rest of this week, and then up until Wednesday.”</p><p>“That sucks. But... sure, you can drive me.”</p><p>They said goodbye to Howie, and then Max shepherded Zoey our to his car, an arm over her head, somewhat shielding her from the rain. He even opened and shut the passenger side door for her, like a fucking gentleman.</p><p>“How’d you get home last time?” Max asked, after he’d climbed in and started the car.</p><p>“Which time? Last night I drove, the night before I walked home.”</p><p>“In the rain? After... after that?”</p><p>“Not my smartest decision. I also ended up crashing on Mo’s couch, after running in sopping wet at three in the morning, he made me tea and let me wear one of his caftans.”</p><p>“Did you run home?”</p><p>“In the sub freezing temperatures and pouring rain. Yes, yes I did.”</p><p>Max shook his head, putting the car into reverse to back out onto the street. “Oh, Zoey.”</p><p>They were silent the rest of the short drive, but when Max pulled up to the door of her building, Zoey sighed and turned to him.</p><p>“I would talk to you about what happened when we..”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, Zoey. We’ll have eternity to figure it out... but right now, you don’t need more complication in your life. So here’s what’s going to happen, okay?” Max said softly, resting a comforting hand on hers, folded neatly in her lap.</p><p>Zoey nodded.</p><p>“You set the pace, Zoey. Whenever you decide you’re ready to talk about it, we’ll talk about it. No pressure at all from me, got it? I’m here to help you. You don’t have to feel awkward about the whole situation, you can mention Simon to me and I won’t flip out. You go at the speed you want to go for everything, and I’ll be there for you, whatever you choose, whenever you need me.”</p><p>Zoey looked at him, blinking away tears in her eyes. She was grateful, so fucking grateful, and she... she loved him.</p><p>“Thank you, Max,” she breathed.</p><p>Max brushed her cheek with the knuckle of his pointer finger, soft and delicate and caring and <em>loving.</em></p><p>Zoey almost kissed him.</p><p>Instead, she threw her arms around him, letting him squeeze her tight. She felt tears pooling in her eyes, but she blinked them away and smiled into Max’s shoulder as he stroked her hair softly.</p><p>
  <em> Cause all of me</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Loves all of you</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Love your curves and all your edges</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>All your perfect imperfections</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>Give your all to me</em> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll give my all to you</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’re my end and my beginning</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Even when I loose I’m winning</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>Cause I give you all</em> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of me</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>And you give me all</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Of you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>As he finished the same song he’d sung when they hooked up, Zoey unwillingly broke the embrace slowly, savouring every last moment of Max’s touch.</p><p>“Text me if you need anything?” Max asked, smiling softly, a smile that almost made her melt.</p><p>“I will,” Zoey said, smiling back.</p><p>Late that night, after going down a Google rabbit hole after the starting search of ‘I want to date two men at once,’ she ended up on the Wikipedia page for polygamy, and from there, the page for polyamory.</p><p>
  <b><em>Polyamory</em> (from Greek πολύ poly, "many, several", and Latin <em>amor</em> “love”) is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the informed consent of all partners involved. It has been described as “consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy. People who identify as polyamorous believe in an open relationship with a conscious management of jealousy; they reject the view that sexual and relational exclusivity are necessary for deep, committed, long-term loving relationships.</b>
</p><p>Zoey smiled a real, genuine smile.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands!</p><p>srsly what’s it gonna take for the writers to let zoey be poly. then they don’t even have to solve the love triangle goddamnit!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Fifth Day (And When Zoey’s Rescheduled Mental Breakdown Begins!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The vigil happens, Zoey has a momentary breakdown, and she can’t even take care of herself before she has to take care of her family.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>an extra tw for very morbid/gory thoughts this chapter that can’t easily be skipped without skipping the whole chapter, there’ll be a chapter summary at the end for those who need to skip this.</p>
<p>songs in this chapter include</p>
<p><b>american pie</b> by don mclean (but i don’t actually do the whole vigil scene; it’s just referenced later that it happened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>give me novacaine</b> by green day</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The funeral was, apparently, beautiful.</p>
<p>Zoey’s mom had gotten Deb, who was now a good friend of hers, to sing at the funeral, and she sang something beautiful and beautifully well, some song of some sort that Zoey didn’t remember at all, not one bit.</p>
<p>They were all crowded under a black pop up tent in the middle of the cemetery while it rained. There were stands flanking the hole in the ground, bedazzled with pink and yellow and red and orange and purple zinnias, her father’s favourite flower. The tent was leaking near the edges, on the other side of the grave, and Zoey kept her head up by focusing on the water dripping down.</p>
<p>She had the unfortunate honour of sitting in the front row at both the ‘funeral’ inside the cemetery building (funeral hall?), where Deb sang and her mom gave a eulogy and some minister read some shit from the bible, and then when they went outside for more prayers and the whole casket lowering thing, she was also in the front, right next to her mom, and on the other side was David. Zoey was smack in the middle of the front row, right next to the casket.</p>
<p>She had figured out that she was totally in the denial phase of grieving, but knowing that her father’s cold dead body, probably embalmed and pumped full of formaldehyde, his jaw screwed shut, his eyes glued closed-</p>
<p>That was when Zoey’s actual first tears, the first since the night he died, arrived at the station called Zoey’s Amazing Tear Ducts. ZATD. Or, Zoey’s Amazing Ducts of Tears, ZADT. What would it take to make it rhyme with BART? Zoey’s Amazing, Real Tears? ZART. Thank god her mom had instructed that under no circumstances would the coffin be open. If that had happened Zoey might’ve had to take a walk to Seattle or someplace far far away to calm down.</p>
<p>She dabbed away the tears with a tissue that Emily had given her, and told to stuff in her bra. It had been a smart choice to listen to her, even if the minister looked at her weird for pulling a tissue out of the top of her dress. </p>
<p>The casket got lowered into the ground, finally. Zoey, her mom, Emily, and David stood up, each took a zinnia from the display, and threw them into the grave, onto the top of the coffin. Zoey imagined the zinnias slowly decaying in the cold, wet ground, becoming withered and brown.</p>
<p>But right now, they were purple, two red ones, orange, and pink. Emily threw in two... one for her unborn child.</p>
<p>Her dad’s first grandchild.</p>
<p>Zoey forced the tears back with <em>anger.</em> Being angry that her dad was gone, that he’d never meet his grandson, that he’d never see Zoey get married or have children, never grow old and grey and happy in his golden years with his wife. </p>
<p>He was only fifty three when he died.</p>
<p>Zoey forced herself to steel herself and grit her jaw with anger, <em>fury.</em> Be mad at the world for taking away her dad. He left so much, too much, too many people-</p>
<p>Zoey’s eyes stayed dry for the rest of the service.</p>
<p>When it was finally over, the family took out their umbrellas and walked away first. They walked away from everyone else, their cluster of black umbrellas taking the long way, through the wet grass and hilly rows of bleak, morbid, gravestones. At least, they were morbid to Zoey, picturing all the shrivelled corpses just six feet below her feet.</p>
<p>Her dad would soon be just as shrivelled as them... one day he’d just be a skeleton in a mahogany box. </p>
<p>Zoey almost threw up.</p>
<p>Her knees were shaking badly when they finally got to the car, and Zoey made herself smaller, pretty much curling up into a ball, as she got into the backseat. Emily sat in the back with her, setting her wet umbrella next to Zoey’s on the floor. David drove, and their mom sat in the passenger seat.</p>
<p>Zoey mentally steeled herself for what was coming next. Their twenty closest relatives were coming to the vigil at the house, as well as Emily’s parents, brother, and sister, and her sibling’s spouses and the three kids they had between them, and a bunch of Emily and David’s friends, several general family friends, and a few of Zoey’s friends. Max, Simon, Mo, and Joan, had all been invited, and were all coming.</p>
<p>She would have to face everyone she loved and pretend she was okay.</p>
<p>At the house, the four of them sat in the car for a moment, quietly discussing whether or not to go in, but finally, they opened the doors, and one by one, the umbrellas popped up for the short walk up the house.</p>
<p>And that was when her mom had begun singing. </p>
<p>            __________________</p>
<p>Zoey went home after the vigil around 1am, quiet and cold. They’d all sung American Pie, and the vigil had gone by in about seven minutes, at least to her. She didn’t even know if she’d said anything, because she’d been too busy listening to the song.</p>
<p>Zoey changed out of her black, depressing dress in favour of a pink t-shirt with ‘Dear Algebra, Please Stop Telling Me To Find Your X. She Left You And I Don’t Know Y’ written across the front in a bright blue bubble font, and pajama pants.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She felt broken and incomplete and missing.</p>
<p>Why did he have to die? Why did this have to happen right now, of all times? He hadn’t even gotten to meet his grandson. He hadn’t gotten to meet his grandson!</p>
<p>Zoey flung one of her stupid black pumps at the wall. The heel hit the wall and left a small hole.</p>
<p>Zoey began to sob violently, throwing herself over the fallen shoe, holding it to her chest like it was the one thing that would save her, maybe even her father. Ha! He was already dead. She threw the other shoe.</p>
<p>Zoey crawled over to the other shoe, picked it up, and cradled it with the other one like baby kittens or a baby. Like the baby that her father had never gotten to hold.</p>
<p>Zoey laid face down on the ground, face in a pillow, and screeched at the top of her lungs, before kicking her feet and sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.</p>
<p>She felt a pair of arms start awkwardly rubbing her back, and she pulled her face out of the pillow to look up, dirty tear tracks running down her cheeks, her hair an absolute mess.</p>
<p>It was Mo, in a baggy tie dyed shirt and Cookie Monster pajama pants, no wig on. “You okay, honey?”</p>
<p>“Do I look okay?” Zoey snorted bitterly. “How’d you get in?”</p>
<p>“You think I didn’t steal one of your keys when the boy drama ramped up, in case of a situation like this?” Mo said, as if it was obvious. “Although, I can tell that this is <em>not</em> boy drama.”</p>
<p>“You were at the vigil earlier.”</p>
<p>“You were so distant and disconnected at the vigil, Zoey, it was terrifying. You greeted everyone but you did not say a word, you <em>clearly</em> did not want to be there.”</p>
<p>“Who would? My dad’s dead... it is <em>so</em> not fair! He had so much here! And I can’t stop thinking morbidly about how one day he’s just going to be a skeleton in a thousand dollar mahogany box!”</p>
<p>“Get it all out, honey,” Mo said, genuinely comfortingly, rubbing Zoey’s back a bit more effectively.</p>
<p>Zoey buried her face in Mo’s stomach (one day Mo would be a skeleton in a box, too) and sobbed all the harder.</p>
<p>She cried for what felt like days but was probably more like twenty minutes, and when she finally took her face out of Mo’s really soft shirt, she felt sedated, underwater.</p>
<p>Until she caught sight of the fucking shoes, and she lunged for them, throwing them into a closet and slamming the door shut, and then realising how loud the slam was and how early in the morning it was and she began to cry small, pitiful tears.</p>
<p>“Are you scared?” Mo asked.</p>
<p>Zoey made a face, and even if she couldn’t see it, she was sure it was a thoroughly pitiful one. “<em>Yes!</em> Of course I am! What am I even doing?!”</p>
<p>“Maybe you should go to bed, Zoey... it does happen to be two I the morning and there do happen to be people who want to sleep. And sleep is nature’s free one stop solution to delaying actually solving problems. But trust me, you can come to me in the morning when you’re ready to dissect it like a cold frog.”</p>
<p>Zoey’s face crumpled, like a toddler, and a couple of the pitiful little tears streaked down her face. </p>
<p>After humouring the sadness for a moment too long, Zoey wiped the tears away with the heel of her hand, rough and angry. “Why can’t I choose?! I’m furious but I’m sad... just...”</p>
<p>Mo handed her a pillow silently, and Zoey snatched it up, pressed it into her face, and screamed into it.</p>
<p>When she was done, she handed the pillow back to him. “Think I’m ready to go to bed now!” She said, a sarcastic cheerfulness being the best she could come up with that wasn’t raging fury or cold and little and sad.</p>
<p>“I agree!” Mo said, and stood up to escort Zoey to her bed.</p>
<p>Mo stood by the side of the bed while Zoey climbed in and curled up on it, and Mo took the comforter and spread it over her, tucking her in like a small child.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Mo. Really.”</p>
<p>“Anytime.”</p>
<p>________________</p>
<p>Zoey went back to the house after work the next day, after having busted her ass on a section of code while buried in an isolation pod, so that nobody could ask her if she was okay, because she fucking wasn’t! </p>
<p>She really, really did <em>not</em>  want to go back to the house, but she had to. Her mom needed her, and her brother and probably Emily.</p>
<p>She still needed to stay composed for them. Be a rock. Be a rock. Rocks don’t cry... but they also don’t code, as far as Zoey knew, so who knew? Maybe she was the first coding rock. Or maybe she was a Janet.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, she made the trek to her parent’s home after a full day of successfully avoiding the frantic Joan, who was adjusting to literally being the acting CEO of SPRQ Point, and people who cared about her wellbeing, like Simon, texts from Max, and... oddly enough, Tobin?</p>
<p>She ended up on the couch again, with her mom, helping her out, and this time, there was no Howie to force Zoey to take a break and eat. Which made her kinda sad, actually. She missed having him here, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she needed him reminding her to eat. Zoey couldn’t even remember the last time she ate.</p>
<p>She felt overly tired after a long evening of caring for her mother, and she was about to tell her mom to go to bed when the front door opened.</p>
<p>David stomped inside.</p>
<p>“David,” her mom said, obviously happy to see him.</p>
<p>“I’m here to help and to steal the quinoa casserole, Emily is having quinoa casserole cravings.”</p>
<p>His tone was joking, but Zoey could <em>feel</em> the anger radiating off him, so she jumped to her feet and followed him into the kitchen.</p>
<p>“How’re we doing, Dave?” Zoey said, falsely cheerful.</p>
<p>“How do you think I’m doing?” David snapped back, revealing his okay ness act to be just... well, an act.</p>
<p>“Okaaay,” Zoey said, placing her palms on the counter and leaning over while David retrieved the quinoa casserole. </p>
<p>“Why’re you acting all cheerful and okay?” David asked bitterly.</p>
<p>“Because I choose to... how can I help? We’re both trying to help Mom, and I helped Emily... so that leaves you.” A small bit of her hoped that David would comfort her, in return for her comforting him.</p>
<p>But he didn’t seem to be interested.</p>
<p>And the cheerful guitar starting up promised to tell Zoey exactly how he was feeling.</p>
<p>
  <em>Take away the sensation inside</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Bitter sweet migraine in my head</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It's like a throbbing tooth ache of the mind</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I can't take this feeling anymore.</em>
</p>
<p>The music was cheerful, the tone in which David sang as he jumped onto the counter and swayed to the beat was even cheerful, but the emotion behind it all was clearly just plain anger.</p>
<p>
  <em> Drain the pressure from the swelling</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The sensation's overwhelming</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Give me a long kiss goodnight and everything will be alright</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tell me that I won't feel a thing</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>So give me Novacaine</em>
</p>
<p>He was angry, but wanted to be numb, unfeeling. The way Zoey had been, until she broke last night. Not that David had seen that.</p>
<p>David had jumped back down from the counter and returned to the quinoa casserole, and was on his way out the doorway when Zoey blocked his path.</p>
<p>“Not so fast, let’s talk about feelings, big guy,” Zoey said, her tone still drenched in a forced cheerfulness.</p>
<p>“Excuse me?” David snapped, trying to go around her.</p>
<p>“Let me help. Please... David... please.” Zoey broke out the big guns, as in making David feel bad. “I just want to help.”</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ... I’m fine, Zoey,” David said, setting the casserole back down on the counter and slowly wiping his hand down his face, wringing it out afterwards.</p>
<p>“You’re angry... but you want to be numb.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“You heard me,” Zoey said triumphantly, crossing her arms. “And you just can’t be like that, Dave!”</p>
<p>“How do you think you can tell? Because you’re completely wrong, just saying.”</p>
<p>“Am I? I’ve been your sister for almost twenty seven years. I think I know how to read you.”</p>
<p>David sighed. “Jesus, your birthday is coming up... remember when we were gonna have a 27 Club themed party for you when you turned twenty seven?”</p>
<p>Zoey’s mind flashed back to the memory.</p>
<p>
  <em> Zoey was fifteen, sitting at the counter in the kitchen, on one of the stools, chewing a strand of her unruly red hair, laptop open in front of her. Her older brother, David, sat next to her, doing math homework on the counter.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Their dad had just gotten home, and he walked straight from the front door down the hall to the kitchen.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“How’s my Zoey Bug, and David Who Is Not A Bug?” He greeted cheerfully, kicking off his shoes while leaning on the counter, palms planted on the granite.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Zoey frowned. “I have to write an essay about a group of people who were cultural influences, and I’m totally stumped.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Cultural influences, huh? That’s rather broad. Really, everyone’s a cultural influence, when you think about it.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah, yeah. But my teacher basically wants us to write a 500 word essay on famous people who did something,” Zoey said, grinning. “If it really was that broad, I’d have written about Mom’s chicken pot pie. Now that, that is a cultural influence on the Clarke culture.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her dad grinned, ruffling her hair. “Agreed. But if that’s not what your teacher wants... hm. Well... you could always right about a president.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“But that’s what everyone’s going to write about! I need something better. Something edgier. I don’t care about the cultural influence of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt’s marriage, or Shrek The Third being a cinematic masterpiece that’s also culturally influential, even if that’s totally true. Shrek, not Bradgelina.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Her father laughed, warm and hearty. “Okay. So, you don’t want something exactly mainstream. Knowing you, that tracks.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I would rather be learning JavaScript right now, but apparently not every class is Coding 1.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay. Cultural influencers who’re edgy, maybe not mainstream. And it has to be a group?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Honestly? Mrs. Eryha just wants us to write about famous people doing good things. So I want to write about famous people who maybe didn’t do great things, and not terrorists.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay, long shot, since you have utterly no appreciation for good music-“</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes I do!” Zoey interrupted. “Taylor Swift <em>is</em> good music!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“-What about writing about the 27 Club? Not all of the members are mainstream, but some are, but it’s certainly edgy.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“The thing with the famous people who died at 27?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah. Janis Joplin, Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix- lemme Google the full list.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Bing is superior,” Zoey said smugly.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, kid,” he said, pulling up the browser on his iPhone 3G. “Jim Morrison, Amy Winehouse, Brian Jones, Rockin’ Robin Roberts, Linda Jones...”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh, that gives me plenty to write!” Zoey exclaimed excitedly, having also Googled the 27 Club, on her laptop. “And a lot of them died of drug overdoses... that’s edgy enough to make Mrs. Eryha wet her pantsuit.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re going to heavily avoid joining the 27 Club, right, Zoey?” Her dad joked. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“As long as you heavily avoid dying before I’m twenty eight.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will heavily avoid dying until I turn eighty, at which point you will be in your fifties. But when you turn twenty seven, we will have a 27 Club themed party for you, when you turn twenty seven. We’ll bring down the house with all of the... Amy Winehouse.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We can have wine in little houses- since, y’know, Winehouse. And Hendrix- we’ll have... drix?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You just want to drink alcohol.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I do indeed. Janis Joplin... we’ll watch Mean Girls, because it has Janis Sarkisian in it. And we’ll spray everything down with the smell of teen spirit!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re awfully excited about a birthday party themed to dead people.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’ll be respectful, but also a blowout.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll make sure to be there.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I remember,” Zoey said softly. “He said he’d be there...” And now his cold, dead, chemical filled body was laying limp in a mahogany box, four decaying zinnias above him, buried in the dirt. He couldn’t even reach the zinnias. Couldn’t see them, because his eyes were glued shut.</p>
<p>“He promised he wouldn’t die before you were twenty eight.”</p>
<p>“Aged well, huh?” Zoey said sarcastically but quietly.</p>
<p>“It did.”</p>
<p>“David... let me help you.”</p>
<p>David hesitated, looking at her, and then at his shoes. </p>
<p>“I’m fine, Zoey,” he said. He picked up the quinoa casserole, and before Zoey could protest, he walked down the hall, bade goodbye to their mom, and left.</p>
<p>Zoey sat back down to her mom, barely suppressing the want to wring her hands. Her mom would freak out if she saw Zoey doing that.</p>
<p>“He’s in a mood, huh?” Her mom commented.</p>
<p>“Can’t say that I blame him,” Zoey sighed.</p>
<p>“He’ll come around,” she said, placing a comforting hand on Zoey’s shoulder. “We’ll all come around.”</p>
<p>“Can you come around and go to bed, Mom?”</p>
<p>“Well... I guess I can, Zoey. You’ll be alright?”</p>
<p>“I’m just gonna go home and pass out,” Zoey said, giving her mom a thumbs up as they both stood.</p>
<p>“Make sure you eat something... maybe take Ms. Eryha’s chicken casserole? I have too many chicken casseroles, and too many casseroles in general.”</p>
<p>“I’ll take some once I eat what I have at home, Mom,” Zoey said. “Go to bed, please?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Mother,” she joked quietly, turning to head up the stairs.</p>
<p>“Mom?” Zoey asked. Her voice was small, tiny, in fact. Scared.</p>
<p>She turned around, her face softened, eyes asking silently what was wrong.</p>
<p>“I love you,” was all Zoey said.</p>
<p>Her mom gave her a tight, warm hug, before she finally went up the stairs and Zoey ignored her dizziness and how she had to stop for breaks when walking up the stairs in her apartment building.</p>
<p>She didn’t even know when she would eat what she had left in her apartment, but she did know that she did need to help David.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>is this a filler chapter? yes. but. a summary for those avoiding the morbidity: the funeral happened, we skip over american pie and go straight to the aftermath, zoey had a mental breakdown and mo comforted her, and then david sang give me novacaine and refused zoey’s efforts to help him. fucking david.</p>
<p>my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, and if you’re interested in joining a ZEP rp server, the link is in my tumblr bio and there’s a post with the link not very far down!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Seventh Day (And Using Packing For A Picnic As A Metaphor Only Works For So Long)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey continues to help family members as they grieve, but not at all help herself.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>no heartsongs this chapter, just good old joan and emotion sussing out!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey was bound and determined to help David.</p>
<p>Was it pure fury that was fuelling her? Partially. She was furious because she was frustrated with a piece of code that she couldn’t seem to get quite right, furious that her dad was dead, furious that she had to do this in the first place-</p>
<p>Zoey smacked loudly the inner wall of the isolation pod she was tucked away in. </p>
<p>“You okay in there, boss?” Tobin asked, him and his disembodied voice walking up and stopping in front of the pod.</p>
<p>“Just peachy!”</p>
<p>“Oh, that reminds me. I made some peach milkshakes with vodka, want one?”</p>
<p>Zoey rolled up the shell part of the pod. “You’re aware that drinking on company property, on company time, is grounds for firing?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. And Joan does it all the time, and technically she’s the CEO.”</p>
<p>Zoey sighed. “You know what? You know what, Tobin, dear friend of mine?” Her tone was absolutely dead, and she’d stopped caring awhile ago.</p>
<p>“You want it?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely.”</p>
<p>“Coming right up,” Tobin said. </p>
<p>Zoey rolled back down the orange wall and returned to her laptop, returned to being frustrated with the strings of numbers that were swimming before her.</p>
<p>Curiosity at how everyone else was doing and a need to stretch her legs brought her out of the pod, and she returned to her desk while observing everyone else in the bullpen.</p>
<p>Everyone was at their desk, except for Tobin and Tulsi, but Tulsi was over on one of the swinging chairs, and a couple of people were playing with fidget toys or Play Doh, but everyone was being productive.</p>
<p>Tobin served her the oddly lumpy drink with a curly straw and a little pink paper umbrella. He had one too, which was half empty. “Cheers, boss.”</p>
<p>“You can call me Zoey,” she said, clinking glasses with him.</p>
<p>She was halfway through the surprisingly good (and yogurt-like) drink when Joan rushed in, in that fast paced I Mean Business gait she’d already had, and now had upped to almost Satanic levels. </p>
<p>“Zoey, my office!” Joan called, voice not angry, just quick and business like. Zoey took her drink with her and followed her into the office.</p>
<p>Joan sat down on her chair and sighed, closing her eyes and planting her hands on her table. Zoey watched her hands curl up into fists that then gently, subtly shook, and then Joan released them with a breath of air.</p>
<p>“What on Earth are you drinking?”</p>
<p>“Peach smoothie. Tobin got it for me,” Zoey said, doing her best not to sound monotone.</p>
<p>“Great. Okay. Where are we at with the Chirp?”</p>
<p>“We’re... getting there. I’ve been getting frustrated with a piece of code all morning, but we’re on track to be done in a few months, so we can move on to making prototypes.”</p>
<p>“How many months?”</p>
<p>“Fouuur?” Zoey said sheepishly.</p>
<p>“I’m hearing two?”</p>
<p>“Remember, last time you did that, I said nine, you said six, and we ended up with twelve.”</p>
<p>“Okay, true. You can have four months, and if you want, you can have my office. I have to move up to the 15th floor.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? I’ve never even been up there.”</p>
<p>“Oh, Zoey, it’s a magical world up there,” Joan said, a sarcastic wonder in her voice. “All the ‘top’ people, in quotaion marks. Even though Danny Michael Davis never worked up there, and I’m arguably the next highest individual, and I work way down here.”</p>
<p>“So what’s up there, then?”</p>
<p>“It’s essentially the public front of SPRQ Point. All the cool stuff we have on every floor? That’s for boosting productivity.”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah... duh?”</p>
<p>“No. Not duh,” Joan said. “Because you have not seen the fifteenth floor. There is so much shit and fun colours... it’s an amazing place. Everyone feels overwhelmed and like a kid in a candy store on their first day here, because look at allllll this cool stuff! Yeah. They haven’t seen the fifteenth floor.”</p>
<p>“There’s alcohol up there, isn’t there?”</p>
<p>“The isolation pods we have? There are whole <em>offices</em> that are like that.”</p>
<p>“A pod office with... a door you pull down? Wouldn’t that be pretty awkward?”</p>
<p>“It’s amazing, Zoey. I’ll take you up to see it, one day, when I’m not so busy. But you’re sure you don’t want this office with clear walls that everyone stares at you from?”</p>
<p>“Are you being serious? Because I don’t think you’re being serious.”</p>
<p>“No. I’m being entirely sarcastic, Zoey. Stay in the bullpen, I don’t blame you.”</p>
<p>“Would you work in the bullpen if you had the choice?”</p>
<p>“Oh, god no! There needs to be separation between the boss and the peasants in the pen. I just would rather have walls that aren’t transparent and doors. You know? Oh! Also, heads up, we’re going to do a company cruise on the bay on the 5th. Short notice, because then nobody can opt out. It’s team building.”</p>
<p>“Oh... Oh my. I get horribly seasick... and it’s March, Joan. Are you even from here?”</p>
<p>“You’ll have to deal, but there’ll be margaritas. And no, I’m from San Diego.”</p>
<p>“Okay...well... who’s taking your job while you’re temporarily being the CEO?” Zoey took a long sip of her ‘smoothie’ and immediately regretted it, because Tobin had <em>not</em> properly stirred this... concoction... of peach yogurt, margarita mix, and enough vodka to kill a lightweight like her.</p>
<p>“Ooh. Brainfreeze?” Joan asked.</p>
<p>“Yeep... a brainfreeze,” Zoey said, lying behind clenched teeth. “But who’s taking the job?”</p>
<p>“Either Lee Tulane- he’s in charge of the seventh floor- but then I’d need a replacement for Lee... maybe Marian, but then I’d need to promote someone to Marian’s posi- what if you take my job?”</p>
<p>Zoey nearly spit out her glorified peach yogurt. “What?!”</p>
<p>“Well, I mean, it’s really not much more than what you’re already doing, because I was team managing myself before I decided to promote someone, and that was a lot of my job. When I promoted you, Danny Michael Davis gave me some extra responsibilities, most of which I’ll be taking with me, that way, the transition back once he gets back from hiding in Costa Rica or whatever will be easier. So, you’ll have to do some extra things... budgeting for the floor, spearheading projects, attending board meetings, but otherwise it’s essentially the same job, still with programmer responsibilities because we do need you to do that, but you’ll get paid more as joint team leader and floor manager. But stay in the bullpen, if you’d like.”</p>
<p>“You’re... seriously gonna give me this job? Not out of pity, I hope.”</p>
<p>“Zoey,” Joan said seriously. “If I was giving jobs out because of pity, I would give this to Leif.”</p>
<p>“Point taken.”</p>
<p>“So will you do it? All the glory and fame, for a grand total of twelve to eighteen months?”</p>
<p>“Well... why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”</p>
<p>Zoey was... honestly in shock. And if she was sober, maybe she’d be a little more hesitant. Joan was clearly underselling this... she was going to be doing twice the amount of work she was already doing, and it was a terrifying thought.</p>
<p>But slight drunkenness dulled the looming paralysing terror.</p>
<p>Joan grinned. “I like your style, Zoey Clarke.”</p>
<p>_________________</p>
<p>Zoey had arranged for a family movie night at the house, mostly to cheer up her mother, who had figuratively been burying herself in floral arrangements since their dad died... a week ago.</p>
<p>It felt like a million years ago. The last time she’d seen her dad... he’d been so full of life, and across the room... already so dead.</p>
<p>Zoey almost angrily threw her car at a pole, but decided that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. She liked her little Prius just fine, even if she hardly used it, thank you very much. But the fact that Give Me Novacaine/She’s A Rebel was playing on the radio, on a <em>classic rock</em> station, no less, wasn’t helping matters, just reminding Zoey that she had to help David’s matters.</p>
<p>She arrived at the house feeling almost okay, until she stepped in and saw the mess of DVDs spread out on the floor.</p>
<p>Zoey thought that if there was a mess, something had happened to her dad, and she ran into the house, about to call for her mom- until she realised that something had happened to him a week ago.</p>
<p>Seven days without her dad. How was she ever going to deal with this?</p>
<p>“Mom?” Zoey called, obligatorily, since she didn’t see her in the mess of a living room.</p>
<p>“In the kitchen, honey!” Her mom called back.</p>
<p>Zoey wandered in, finding her mother sitting on the kitchen floor with Emily, both of them looking through two plastic crates full of movies.</p>
<p>“Woah, I didn’t know we had this many movies.”</p>
<p>“Your dad made a point of collecting every single Disney film... I’m fairly certain we have Song Of The South and some World War Two Disney propaganda films pirated onto a DVD in here somewhere,” her mom explained. “We’re looking for Steel Magnolias, because Emily’s never seen it.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but seriously? Steel Magnolias? You must be kidding me, Mom,” Zoey said, crouching down to help look through the crates.</p>
<p>“I know, but I figured it might be a good, constructive way to get emotions out as a family. And your dad did love it.”</p>
<p>“You know what would be good and constructive? Not watching past the wedding scene.”</p>
<p>“Okay, but if Dolly Parton, Julia Roberts, Sally Field, Shirley MacLane, Darryl Hannah, and Olivia Dukakis were all in a movie together that I’ve never heard of and Dolly Parton, Darryl Hannah, and Shirley MacLane breathed the same air in a movie, I need to see it,” Emily said.</p>
<p>“Touchè,” Zoey said, throwing her hands up. “Where’s David?”</p>
<p>“The backyard, I think,” her mom said.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna go talk to him, you guys find the movie where Dolly, Darryl, and Shirley all breathed the same air... until they didn’t.”</p>
<p>“Keep your spoilers to yourself, Zoey,” her mother chastised quickly, as Emily cried, “What does that mean? Does Dolly die?”</p>
<p>“Not Dolly,” Zoey said conspiratorially, leaving the room to go find David.</p>
<p>She found him sitting on the steps of the back porch, reading a book. </p>
<p>“Whatcha reading, there, David Zander Clarke?”</p>
<p>“The Grapes of Wrath,” David said sadly.</p>
<p>“Ooh... a real page turner, that one,” Zoey said, voice dripping with sarcasm.</p>
<p>“What is it you want, exactly, Zoey?” David snapped, slamming the book shut with a good <em>snap</em>, especially impressive because it was a paperback.</p>
<p>“Let me help you, for Christ’s sake!” Zoey said... basically yelled. It came out a <em>lot</em> louder than she would’ve liked. </p>
<p>“Let me help you,” she repeated, a lot softer.</p>
<p>David stared at her. </p>
<p>Zoey sat down next to him. “Please let me help you... he wouldn’t have wanted you to be like this.”</p>
<p>David groaned. “I hate it so much when people say that the dead person wouldn’t have wanted this.”</p>
<p>“But isn’t it true? He’s been dead a week, I’m not saying you have to move on... I just want you to move on from being so angry I fully expect you to have smoke coming out of your ears if I say something you don’t like.”</p>
<p>“How exactly am I supposed to deal with this, Zoey? I’m a public defender... I’m fucking busy. Not to mention, Emily’s going to give birth any day now. And as you learned from the last time you meddled in my business, I’m freaked out as all hell. Plus... my dad doesn’t get to meet his grandson.”</p>
<p>“Okay... so you’re stressed as fuck. And grieving. But there’s something else.”</p>
<p>“How about, that I’m really angry about it?”</p>
<p>“Okay then... can we talk through that?”</p>
<p>David sighed. “Will you get off my back if I let you mess with my feelings again, Miss Crazy Empath Clarke?”</p>
<p>“For now,” Zoey said, grinning a little evilly. “Or you can go watch Steel Magnolias with Mom and Emily.”</p>
<p>“I think she genuinely wants to kill us.”</p>
<p>“She’s trying. But I think you would rather talk about feelings than watch it.”</p>
<p>“No, I’d rather watch it and cry my eyes out. But since I know you’re going to relentlessly pursue this... fine. Let’s talk about a man’s feelings.”</p>
<p>“Hey, Dad wouldn’t want you to be angry <em>or</em> a victim of toxic masculinity.”</p>
<p>“Okay, fine. Let’s talk about it. But you lead, since this is <em>your</em> stupid idea.”</p>
<p>“If you say so,” Zoey said, grinning. She took a moment to think about what do say. What <em>do</em> you say to a lawyer? Her brother’s job was literally arguing with people.</p>
<p>“Okay... so, dad being dead makes you angry. Let’s work through this line by line, like we’re figuring out a bug in a string of code,” Zoey said, taking a page out of Max’s book.</p>
<p>“You can figure out the bug, but I hate doing anything STEM. I barely passed high school algebra, for Christ’s sake.”</p>
<p>“Okay... well. You’re angry, and you’re angry because Dad’s dead. That’s two lines already. So, you’re angry, and the reason that you’re angry is because Dad’s dead, and what else? Just to hear it from you.”</p>
<p>David ticked them off on his fingers. “I’m busy with entirely too many cases because the American court system is broken, I’m terrified that I won’t be a good dad and I’m about to have to be some sort of a father, and I don’t have my own father’s guidance.”</p>
<p>“You’re angry, you’re angry because Dad’s dead, and you’re also angry because you’re about to be a dad and you don’t have Dad to help.”</p>
<p>“Are you seriously going to repeat this over and over again?”</p>
<p>Zoey sighed. “Okay, think of it this way. Remember the picnic packing game we used to play as kids, on long car trips?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. You’d say something with the letter A, B, and so forth, and you had to repeat every ite- ohh. I see. Fine, we’ll do it like that, since the coding metaphor doesn’t work for me.”</p>
<p>“Great! You’re packing for an emotional journey of self discovery-“</p>
<p>“We are <em>so</em> not calling it that-“</p>
<p>“-And you have brought the following emotional baggage. Anger, anger because Dad’s dead and you’re scared of being a dad. Next item. Why are you scared of being a dad?”</p>
<p>“I thought Dad was going to teach me, and help me.”</p>
<p>“Close, but that’s not actually what we’re looking for. There’s a better answer than that, and you know it.”</p>
<p>“I’m scared I’ll screw up and the kid will be emotionally stunted or a victim of toxic masculinity. And I don’t want that.”</p>
<p>“Okay. Why are you scared he’ll be a victim of toxic masculinity?”</p>
<p>“Because I don’t think I’ll be a good enough dad to teach him otherwise. But also because toxic masculinity is stupid. And because...” </p>
<p>“Because..?”</p>
<p>“Because... not Dad’s fault, he tried... but in college, and then law school... I was the personification of toxic masculinity.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t rape anyone, right?”</p>
<p>“No. I was just a fuckboy.”</p>
<p>“And you weren’t in high school?” Zoey teased.</p>
<p>“Let’s get back to the emotional baggage picnic.”</p>
<p>“Alright. Let’s rehash. You’re unpacking your emotional baggage, and your luggage includes being angry, angry because Dad’s dead, and also because you’re afraid of becoming a dad yourself, because you don’t know how to be a perfect role model, because you were once the exemplification of toxic masculinity. Why were you a fuckboy?”</p>
<p>“I was scared of not appearing tough enough.”</p>
<p>“Why were you afraid of not appearing tough enough?”</p>
<p>“Because then I’d get picked on- it doesn’t really feel like we’re getting anywhere, Zoey.”</p>
<p>“We’ll get there. The train is still chugging. Choo, choo! Why were you afraid of getting picked on?”</p>
<p>“Because I thought I wouldn’t be the manliest man... we’re at a dead end, Zoey.”</p>
<p>“No, we aren’t!” Zoey insisted. “You’re just not giving me the right answers, Mr. Fuckboy. Let’s go back. Why were you <em>really</em> being a fuckboy in college?”</p>
<p>“Because I was scared, okay? I was scared of it all, it was overwhelming.”</p>
<p>“You’re overwhelmed. What made you stop being overwhelmed, David?”</p>
<p>“I’m always overwhelmed.”</p>
<p>“But in college... what made you quit being a fuckboy?”</p>
<p>“The realisation that being a fuckboy was stupid and so was toxic masculinity. We’re not getting anywhere.”</p>
<p>“No, but we are! We got plenty of places! The journey was a roundabout all along, so maybe the coding metaphor wouldn’t have necessarily have worked... and I’m totally a shitty therapist, because for awhile I really didn’t think we were getting anywhere with the toxic masculinity route. But don’t you think it’s awfully toxically masculine of you to be angry?”</p>
<p>“True... but we really didn’t get anywhere with the toxic masculinity route.”</p>
<p>“Okay, so the coding metaphor <em>does</em> work, because-“</p>
<p>“Nobody cares about your stupid coding metaphor, Zoey!” David interrupted loudly, jokingly exasperated.</p>
<p>“-Because we were just going down the wrong path!” Zoey basically screeched, starting to giggle. “Okay, but seriously. Let’s back up. You’re scared to be a dad and scared that you’ll have to do it alone.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think my issues are as deep as you think they are, Zoey,” David said, suddenly very sincere and quiet. “I’m grieving... we’re not going to discover some deep seated trauma, because I don’t really have that. Seriously. I’m grieving... and I need to not use anger to deal with it. Nothing happened to me to make me a total macho man in college, I just was. Because I’m a dumb boy.”</p>
<p>“And I guess I’m a dumb girl. The whole thing really was stupid, and you solved it on your own. Not that solving it isn’t good, it’s just-“</p>
<p>“No, you solved it. Because you calmed me down by taking me on your stupid emotional baggage train, and I was humouring you for awhile, but when it stopped getting anywhere, I thought about it... and you were searching for something really deep, but it isn’t. I’m just using anger to cope with the fact that my dad’s dead, which isn’t healthy, and I need to stop.”</p>
<p>“You’re right... and even if <em>you</em> solved it... I’m glad I helped.”</p>
<p>“You were a co-producer of the answer, Zoey.”</p>
<p>Zoey was about to say something about how The Answer sounded like some cheesy Christian Hallmark movie, when their mom rushed out frantically.</p>
<p>“And you’re a co-producer of the baby that Emily’s about to have, David, and she’s apparently been in labour for hours, so I’d suggest we go take care of this!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, and the zep rp server is still looking for more ppl, find the link in my tumblr bio!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Eighth Day (And The First Day For Many Things)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Emily gives birth, and Zoey has emotions, because hospitals are not particularly full of fun memories for her.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>songs in this chapter include:</p><p><b>everything changes</b> from waitress the musical by sara bareilles (seriously, zep should have WAY more musical songs in it; musicals know how to describe feelings, damnit.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey had been sitting in the waiting room anxiously for what felt like days, trying to distract herself with a whole lot of Candy Crush and the occasional murder podcast when she felt non-self conscious enough to put in an earbud.</p><p>David was with Emily in the delivery room, and so was her mom, but the hospital <em>apparently</em> had a two family member limit in their delivery rooms, something that mine of them had known previously. David assured them that if they’d known, they’d have chosen a different hospital, but it was too late now, and Zoey volunteered to stay in the living room.</p><p>It had been <em>forever</em> of being alone in the hospital... and she thoroughly disliked hospitals in the first place. Too many bad things had happened here.</p><p>Good news was: David wouldn’t be using anger to cope anymore. Bad news was: it probably already would’ve been solved by the child who was already coming today. And of course, a baby was always good news, unless it was baby Trump or something. Or the new Muppet Babies show.</p><p>Bad news was: she’d been entirely useless in helping him. She didn’t help him at all.</p><p>At least she didn’t feel quite so angry herself, anymore. Just... just sad, and hopeless, and...</p><p>Zoey buried her face in her hands and wiped her eyes roughly, refusing to cry in the middle of a hospital waiting room.</p><p>She felt supremely, overwhelmingly <em>sad.</em></p><p>It was the first time since her dad died that she couldn’t control the sadness, or shield herself from it with some other emotion.</p><p>And it was also the first time that she was the first to reach out in some way or another.</p><p>
  <b>Me: Emily’s giving birth [7:22 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: OH SHIT!!!!!!!!!! B A B Y!!!!!! [9:22 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: They’re only allowing 2 family members with her in the delivery room and I’m out in the waiting room. It’s been, like, four hours. [9:23 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: Perhaps I shall come accompany you, then, fair lady. [9:23 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: Just because I’m a pale ass redhead doesn’t mean that you can call me fair. [9:25 PM]</b>
</p><p>The joke felt forced, hollow. Max was probably laughing, but she sure wasn’t.</p><p>
  <b>Max: I’ll be there in 20. [9:25 PM]</b>
</p><p>Zoey put in both earbuds, turned her murder podcast almost all the way up, and then closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall, straining to find some comfortable position in the stupid hard plastic chair.</p><p>The chair that she nearly fell out of when someone tapped her on the shoulder.</p><p>She ripped open her eyes and, instinctively, one of her earbuds, the tiny speaker now broadcasting True Crime 2020 - The Bite Mark Murder to the entire waiting room.</p><p>And even worse, it wasn’t even Max. It was a doctor, Doctor Sandra Ellis, according to her name tag.</p><p>Zoey smiled sheepishly and turned down the podcast. “Is she okay?”</p><p>“True Crime 2020? That’s one of my favourites,” Doctor Ellis said, smiling. Her dark brown skin was sweaty, shining uncannily in the fluorescent lights as she threw some hip-length blonde braids behind her shoulder. “The baby turned positions and now Emily’s going in for a C-Section, should be another hour or so before the baby’s born.”</p><p>“Okay... she’s okay, right?”</p><p>“Of course. She’s doing wonderfully, and your mom and brother are helping her out. Sorry about the family member limit policy, I can’t do anything about it, unfortunately.”</p><p>“It’s okay... I eventually got bored enough to call a friend, he’s on his way.”</p><p>“I don’t know how you could get bored listening to True Crime 2020, but okay. I’ll come back once there’s news, alright?”</p><p>“Great. Thank you so much.”</p><p>“No problem.”</p><p>Zoey thought back to that day... eight days ago, it was, she realised. When she looked at her reflection in the toaster and she had sung Bad Moon Rising. She had realised all too late that it was about her dad, not Emily, not any of her friends... it was her dad. If she’d known, maybe she could’ve spent the day with him-</p><p>“How’s she doing?”</p><p>Zoey jumped again, looking up to see Max standing in front of her, looking <em>very</em> excited.</p><p>“She’s going into surgery, they’re doing a c-section, because the baby moved. It should be another hour.”</p><p>“I’m okay with spending that hour with you,” Max said.</p><p>“I dunno, once you sit down, you’ll feel otherwise,” Zoey said, a little bit softer. It wasn’t just about the chairs... it was the uncanny white walls with the uncanny fluorescent light bouncing off of them, and all the sick people and the worried people around her. She half expected them to burst into Another Brick In The Wall Pt. 2. </p><p>And also the fact that she felt like the walls were slowly closing in on her, cutting off her air supply, forcing her to gasp for breath. </p><p>Zoey desperately tried to do the thing that Simon taught her, ten slow breaths to calm down, but it only seemed to make it worse. </p><p>The white walls kept getting smaller, her lungs emptier, burning harder. Eyes pierced through the fissure cracks in the walls, staring at her like an animal in a zoo, like some sort of attraction in a freak show. She couldn’t <em>breathe</em>. </p><p>There was chatter all around her, and it grew louder, even more unsettling and terrifying, as the thrum and din built and built and the walls moved closer and closer-</p><p>Someone yanked her up, and suddenly she was sitting outside on a bench, in the cold and dark, under a lamp, someone rubbing her back.</p><p>“C’mon, you’re okay,” Max murmured. </p><p>Zoey realised that the heavily uncomfortable burning in her lungs was probably because she was hyperventilating, so maybe it’d be a good idea to cut it out.</p><p>“You with me, Zo?” Max said. </p><p>Zoey’s still sharp breathing caught, and she started coughing heavily, trying desperately to steady her breaths, though they shook and felt almost foreign. She leaned against Max’s arm, coughing into her elbow.</p><p>Max wrapped his arms around her protectively, tucking her under one of them in the process. Which was a lot warmer, but the cold did have a Hey Zoey, Come Back To Reality effect on her.</p><p>When she was done, finally, she went limp against Max, breathing in and out at what might be considered a much better speed. Her head was spinning, and she was <em>so</em> unbearably lightheaded. Probably because she couldn’t remember the last time she ate, coupled with, of course, the hyperventilation.</p><p>“Can you say something, Zoey? Just so that I know that you’re okay?” Max asked, looking down at her, softly and kindly.</p><p>She felt like her throat was constricted, or like a bubble was in it, and in order to talk, she’d have to pop it. But she couldn’t reach to pop it, and she was too overwhelmed to want to. Maybe the bubble <em>was</em> her heavy feeling of being overwhelmed. It was quiet out here, the only sound distant traffic, and the sound of Max’s breathing, her breathing, and his voice.</p><p>Zoey shook her head against his torso, feeling his stomach go up and down with every breath he took. It was a calming thing... something she couldn’t control, but something she knew wouldn’t change. She stayed rested against him, and she would’ve been content just to feel him breathe, but also wanted him to talk to her.</p><p>“Okay... that’s okay. Your throat probably hurts... and you’re clearly overwhelmed. Duh, Max. Hmm... okay... here!” He took her small hand in his larger one, and held his out flat. “You can talk to me by tracing on my hand.”</p><p>Zoey nodded slowly, slowly picking up her hand and just as slowly, tracing letters out on Max’s palm.</p><p><em>T H X</em>, she traced.</p><p>“No problem... well, it <em>is</em> a problem when you have a panic attack in a hospital waiting room. What happened back there?”</p><p>
  <em>S C A R E D</em>
</p><p>“Because of what’s happened in the hospital?”</p><p>
  <em>W A L L</em>
</p><p>Max looked confused, so Zoey added another two words</p><p>
  <em>T O O     S M A L L</em>
</p><p>“Oh! The walls... they were closing in?”</p><p>
  <em>Y</em>
</p><p>“Okay... well, again, it’s not really okay. But... what can I do to help?”</p><p>
  <em>C O L D</em>
</p><p>“You’re cold?”</p><p>A small nod.</p><p>“I’m guessing that going back inside is a no-go.”</p><p>Another nod, accompanied by a pained expression.</p><p>“Wanna go sit in the car? I’ll tell the receptionist so they can call when the baby happens, so-“</p><p>Zoey shook her head almost violently. </p><p>“No?”</p><p>
  <em>I M    F I N E</em>
</p><p>“Sorry to object, but you did just have a panic attack in a hospital waiting room, and it’s thirty degrees outside, at best. Maybe... I could take you to the food court?”</p><p>Zoey shook her head again. <em>L O U D</em></p><p>“Oh, sorry,” Max said, lowering his volume a bit... which was a bit nice. “So we’re staying out here?”</p><p>
  <em> C O L D      C A L M</em>
</p><p>“I just don’t want you to freeze, that’s all... let me at least get you a blanket from my car?”</p><p>Zoey hesitated. She really didn’t want to let go of Max, because he was warm and comforting and feeling him breathe was very calming, but even if the cold had a calming effect as well, it was still fucking frigid.</p><p>So, she nodded slowly.</p><p>Max got up very slowly, first giving Zoey his jacket for the moment, and letting her adjust to sitting up on her own, like she was a sad small child, before heading for the parking lot, picking up speed as he went.</p><p>He was literally running to get her a blanket, and she had blue balled him romantically how many times now? </p><p>Zoey started shivering while he was gone, but he came back with a decently sized plush blanket with Elmo and Big Bird all over it (which wasn’t at all a shock, Max still watched Sesame Street, unironically.) Max swaddled Zoey up in the blanket, giving her momentary flashbacks to when her dad would swaddle her up and pronounce her a Zorrito. </p><p>“Hold the guac!” Zoey would always say.</p><p>But now, she both felt unable to speak and didn’t want to anyway, so she just sat back down once she was all Zorritoed up, and when Max sat down, she spread the blanket out so that he wouldn’t be freezing for her sake.</p><p>“My epic swaddle! How dare you?!” Max said, pretending to be outraged. </p><p>Zoey just smiled wanly and went back to the spot tucked under Max’s arm. She wasn’t exactly <em>warm,</em> per se, what with the fact that it had been Crocs Day at work, and the cold on her face, but she was good enough. </p><p>They stayed there for what felt like barely any time, but finally, Zoey asked the time by tapping her wrist, and when Max said that it was five past ten, she got up, slowly, adjusting to the dizziness and brief moment of black in her vision. Barely eating probably wasn’t great for her health, but it didn’t help that she had just hyperventilated for god only knows how long.</p><p>“Back inside?” Max asked.</p><p>Zoey nodded, keeping the blanket wrapped around her, like a cloak of darkness, just with smiling Elmos and Big Birds. Max nodded back, smiling softly, and offered her his hand.</p><p>Zoey hesitated for half a second, hoping to god that Max wouldn’t think much of it, before placing her hand, softened from the cold, in Max’s. He held it in his gentle, firm grasp, and led her inside.</p><p>Zoey didn’t appreciate the stares from all the people around her, and she was a little glad for the fact that talking seemed like entirely too much right now, because a Zoey who wasn’t completely nonverbal would’ve asked Max how big of a scene she’d made, without thinking about it first, and then she would’ve regretted it, because she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know.</p><p>So they sat back down on the stupid plastic chairs, and Zoey actually correctly applied Simon’s advice of ten steadying breaths, though, she did it while staring at the cold, white linoleum, trying to not freak out again.</p><p>The chairs were made stupider by the hard plastic armrests, meaning that leaning against Max the way she had been would be pretty difficult, so she settled for not letting go of his hand and leaning her head on his shoulder. At least it was plenty warm in here.</p><p>The next thing she knew, someone was shaking her gently, and Zoey realised that she’d fallen asleep.</p><p>Doctor Ellis was standing in front of her, and Max had straightened up. A glance on the clock on the wall marked it as.... one twenty? In the morning?</p><p>“Sorry for the wait. Emily had some... complications, during her c-section. She had a beautiful, healthy baby boy, but she’s not doing terrific herself. She’ll survive, but she lost a lot of blood in surgery and her oxygen levels dipped. So, she’ll be here for awhile. You can go see the baby in the nursery, but after that I’d suggest you go home.”</p><p>Zoey opened her mouth, but nothing came out.</p><p>Max filled in for her. “So she can’t see Emily?”</p><p>“Unfortunately, no. Zoey, your mother and brother are with her, and she’s been transferred to the ICU, so, of course, that’s as many people as can be in there. Not much is going to change between now and sunrise, she won’t be awake for a good long while. But would you like to see the baby in the nursery?”</p><p>Zoey nodded. </p><p>“Right this way,” Doctor Ellis said, and Zoey stood and followed her, Max still holding her hand and walking right alongside her</p><p>They filed up to the nursery, a long window separating them from the babies. Doctor Ellis peered through the window, and then pointed to a certain baby, on the far right, one row behind the babies closest to the window. </p><p>Zoey made her first sound in several hours, a soft “Oh,” as she moved as close to the baby as she could.</p><p>He was swaddled up in a blue blanket, squirming around a little bit. His face was tiny, chubby, and pink, and he had a few tiny red curls on his little, tiny head.</p><p>She could’ve melted right there if you threw a bucket of water over her.</p><p>“He’s named Zachary Dorian Clarke,” someone said from behind them.</p><p>Zoey turned around to see a very tired and yet clearly overjoyed David.</p><p>Zoey, of course, gave him a huge hug.</p><p>“I figured we’d continue the tradition of a D name and a Z name, since I’m David Zander and you’re Zoey Delilah, but also honour dad, so, Zachary Dorian for Mitchell Doriel.</p><p>Zoey smiled up at him. </p><p>David broke the embrace and held her out at arm’s length, staring at her. “You okay?”</p><p>Zoey opened her mouth, but again, nothing came out. Which stunk, because she had <em>so</em> many things to say.</p><p>“Zoey had a bit of a panic attack a couple of hours ago, and she’s not talking. Not on purpose, I know that she can tell that you have a <em>very</em> cute baby.”</p><p>“Jesus, you haven’t done that since college,” David said. “But it’s okay... and Emily’s going to be okay.”</p><p>Zoey nodded, still smiling at him.</p><p>David began to rattle off the story of the birth, how they’d gone to labouring to Emily getting an epidural and before it could even kick in, being informed that she’d need a c-section, to her loosing consciousness during surgery, but it faded into the background as Zoey heard music begin.</p><p>Zoey’s eyes caught a woman with blonde hair and sharp green eyes, staring at her baby at the other end of the window, in a hospital gown, one hand resting on the window.</p><p>
  <em> Today’s a day, like any other</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I am changed, I am a mother, oh.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In an instant.</em>
</p><p>Another mother, this one with her brunette hair in two pigtail braids and her face covered in freckles, rolled up in a wheelchair to the window just then by her husband, joined in, harmonising with the blonde mother.</p><p>
  <em> And who I was has disappeared</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It doesn’t matter, now you’re here</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So innocent.</em>
</p><p>Two more mothers joined in, one in fact, on the other side of the window, lifting up her baby to hold, gentle and loving. All four sang together.</p><p>
  <em> I was lost</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For you to find</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now I’m yours</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And you are mine.</em>
</p><p>And now, not just two more women, but also the fathers, including David, joined in.</p><p>
  <em> Everything changes.</em>
</p><p>A brief dance break as the music soared ensued, mothers gently cradling babies and dancing around with gentle sways and light, airy movements. </p><p>
  <em> I didn’t know, but now I see.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sometimes what is is meant to be</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You saved me!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My blurry lines, my messy life</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come into focus in the town that made me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can hear, and I can breathe</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Cause I can feel, myself believe!</em>
</p><p>From down the hall, Emily, whom Zoey knew really wasn’t there, joined in, running to David and hugging him, suddenly holding their baby.</p><p>The song was of joy, about bringing in a new life to the world and seeing everything in a new light. And Zoey knew that David, and, when she was awake, Emily, would be glowing in that beautiful feeling.</p><p>It made Zoey, just a little bit- no, a lot bit- want to experience that for herself.</p><p>
  <em> Everything changes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>‘Cause my heart’s at the wheel now</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I know in due time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Every right thing will find it’s right place </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I swear I’ll remember to say</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We were both born today!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cause everything’s changed</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything changes.</em>
</p><p>Slowly, the music faded away, and most of the mothers disappeared, including, disappointingly, Emily, leaving just the blonde mother, Max, David, and herself.</p><p>Zoey wondered how it would feel to have a baby of her own and relish in the glow, rather than just have it sung to her.</p><p>But she wasn’t pregnant and couldn’t have been, anyway, she hadn’t had sex in about four years, but eventually, she waved goodbye to David, and Max drove her home.</p><p>She stood by her door for a moment once he shut it behind him, and realised that she was still wrapped in the Sesame Street blanket.</p><p>Her hand reached for the doorknob for a moment, but she pulled it back.</p><p>She knew he wouldn’t mind, otherwise, he would’ve taken it with him. Besides, it smelled like him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>zoey my dear. zoey my love, my dearest.</p><p>you’re in love.</p><p>unforch, whenever she gets really close to one person and it feels like she might choose him... the other one appears. ;)</p><p>as always, my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, and our rp  discord is still looking for more members!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Ninth Day (And A Little Bit Of Meditation, Swimming, And Generally Being Sad)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey rededicates herself to work, and takes a swim.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>songs in this chapter include:</p>
<p><b>another brick in the wall part.2</b> by pink floyd (although it isn’t explicitly sung; just mentioned.)</p>
<p><b>missing you</b> by all time low</p>
<p><b>it isn’t, it wasn’t, it ain’t never gonna be</b> by aretha franklin &amp; whitney houston</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey dove back into work like diving headfirst into the San Francisco Bay, and it went pretty much how you would expect to fare after diving headfirst into the Bay, especially at the beginning of March.</p>
<p>She froze up.</p>
<p>Zoey spent the entirety of Thursday morning, after having stayed up well past 3am earlier that morning, just staring at her screen blankly, fingers motionless.</p>
<p>Tobin was the first person to actually notice her plight and <em>also</em> try to help, in a way. More like, he slid his swivel chair over to Zoey.</p>
<p>“How we doing, Boss?” Tobin asked, striking up some conversation.</p>
<p>“I’m brain dead,” Zoey responded flatly.</p>
<p>“Aren’t we all,” Tobin laughed. “Okay, but, we <em>do</em> need to have that piece that you’re working on done by today.”</p>
<p>“Yeah Tobin... I know. My brain’s just... off in a different world right now. Which isn’t fair to anyone else... I just need to.... I feel almost like I forgot to code.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you hit The Wall?” Tobin said, rather loudly.</p>
<p>“Oh, Zoey? You hit The Wall?” Tulsi asked, walking by with a cup of coffee. Her normally brown hair, she’d apparently dyed purple, and done up in a bun, and her warm brown skin was almost all hidden by her huge 80s style red blazer, all buttoned up, complete with shoulder pads, and a plaid skirt that reached her ankles. </p>
<p>“Nice outfit,” Zoey said sincerely.</p>
<p>“Thanks! It has pockets!” Tulsi exclaimed, unbuttoning the blazer and showing Zoey the huge pockets in the lining, and then the ones in the skirt. “But anyway. You hit The Wall?”</p>
<p>“What’s The Wall?” Zoey asked.</p>
<p>Tobin probably gave her a decently good explanation, but all Zoey heard was a rendition of Another Brick In The Wall Part 2, complete with intricate choreography which had everyone in the bullpen smashing their heads into keyboards and computers, which wasn’t the <em>worst</em> explanation?</p>
<p>“Make sense?” Tobin asked, the first non-song words she’d heard in four minutes.</p>
<p>Zoey nodded. “I think I’m gonna go meditate and then come back, try and bring down this damn wall.”</p>
<p>“Personally, I play table tennis incessantly until I get around it, but I guess that works too?”</p>
<p>“I hope it works for me,” was all Zoey said in response.</p>
<p>She stood, bracing herself on her desk for a second to get past the rush of lightheadedness (“I’ve been sitting in this stupid chair for entirely too long!” She said, trying to deflect from any suspicion or, god forbid, concern.), and then speed walked to the meditation room.</p>
<p>Thankfully, it was empty, and her powers weren’t glitching, so no way she could sing a very sexy song to Simon without meaning to. She took off her shoes and sat on one of the pillows, crossing her legs, setting her hands on her knees, and closing her eyes.</p>
<p>Zoey wasn’t <em>great</em> at meditation usually, because her mind always seemed to be racing at a million miles an hour, but today it just seemed stuck and empty, so she found meditating fairly easy.</p>
<p>Until someone poked her, and she woke up on the floor, sprawled out in the meditation room, her hips on the pillow and her legs awkwardly hanging down from it, the top half of her body awkwardly twisted around.</p>
<p>“When I take a nap at work, I usually use the isolation pods, myself,” Simon said, laughing a little.</p>
<p>Zoey scrambled to pick herself up and sit up correctly. “I was <em>meditating</em>, for your information.”</p>
<p>“If you say so,” Simon said, smiling a bit before getting serious. “Are you sleeping okay?”</p>
<p>“Well... if I <em>was</em> sleeping in the meditation room, which I wasn’t, it was probably because my sister in law went into labour yesterday, and I was at the hospital until 1am, and didn’t go home until 3am. But... cute baby, so it was worth it.” </p>
<p>Zoey conveniently left out the fact that she went nonverbal after a panic attack, something that had happened to her exactly once, in college, after barely sleeping for sixty some hours, and then feeling the walls close in in a particularly stressful class.</p>
<p>This time had been way worse.</p>
<p>“Oh, congrats on being an aunt.”</p>
<p>“Yeah... Emily had a c-section and she’s still knocked out, according to the most recent update I’ve gotten,” Zoey said.</p>
<p>“Oh, shit... she okay?”</p>
<p>“They promised she’ll be fine... just knocked out for awhile. And the kid’s fine... his name is Zach.”</p>
<p>“Cute... but seriously. You doing okay? I feel like you’re either avoiding <em>my</em> help, or just help in general.”</p>
<p>“I’m doing okay... just working through it on my own, is all.” Zoey laughed awkwardly.</p>
<p>“Yeah, because that worked out so great for me?” Simon pointed out.</p>
<p>“Not to be a douche... but... I’m dealing in my own way. But when I do need slash want help... you’ll be the first person I go to.”</p>
<p>“Okay... but are you <em>really</em> sure you’re okay? You can tell me anything, and according to the bulls in the pen, you’ve hit The Wall... any idea what that is?”</p>
<p>“From what I understand, either a meaningless Pink Floyd reference just because Pink Floyd, or it’s writer’s block for programmers. Too bad this is a <em>really</em> bad to have that, I have this huge section I need to finish today, and- oh my god! I completely forgot!”</p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>“I’m- actually, no, you don’t know about this yet, so-“</p>
<p>“That Joan’s getting promoted to CEO while Danny Michael Davis takes a sabbatical? Everyone knows, there’s supposed to be a gathering of everyone from every floor in the lobby tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Shit, how did I forget about that?” Zoey said, laughing awkwardly again. “The lobby convention of 2020!” She figured it’d be pretty easy to pass it off as that, rather than tell Simon about her promotion.</p>
<p>“Yeah, whoever’s getting promoted to floor boss of this floor is getting announced then. There’s a betting ring of sorts, a bunch of people have good money on you.”</p>
<p>“Why exactly would they have so much money on me?”</p>
<p>“Well, you are already team manager of the programmers on the 4th floor, so you’re pretty well suited to end up as the next Joan.”</p>
<p>“Ugh, if that happens, I’m totally just staying in the bullpen, I refuse to be in Joan’s office. It’s just <em> begging</em> for people to stare at you.”</p>
<p>“You’d have the authority to kick me out of my office and take that,” Simon joked.</p>
<p>“Why would I do that? You deserve an office, you’re... you’re... very important.”</p>
<p>Simon pretended to be offended. “You don’t think that the marketing team leader is as important as a programmer?</p>
<p>“Never said I did!” Zoey said, pointing her finger into the air to punctuate her point. “My mouth, not yours.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and your mouth was implying that programmers are better.”</p>
<p>“Never said that.... but I <em>also</em> never said the opposite.”</p>
<p>Simon clutched his chest. “You wound me!”</p>
<p>“I dunno... seems pretty fair since you defamed my name by claiming I fell asleep in the meditation room.”</p>
<p>“Even though you fell asleep in the meditation room, I don’t regret betting on you.”</p>
<p>“Number one, you gamble? And two, you bet on <em>me?”</em> She giggled awkwardly- what was with her and awkward laughter today?</p>
<p>“You’re the most well positioned for this. And I don’t gamble any other time of the year... except for when the Oscars come around. I was on a five year streak for predicting Best Special Effects correctly at my old job.</p>
<p>“How impressive, I did Best Actress correctly once, and I’ve never gotten anything right sense. Oscars aside, I didn’t sleep in the meditation room. And personally, if I was involved in this betting pool on who was taking Joan’s job, if it’s not an outside hire, I’d say Leif.”</p>
<p>“You slept in here. And what else, did you eat in here, too? Am I going to find stray Froot Loops tucked into every corner?”</p>
<p>“First of all, Lucky Charms are so much better, second of all, I haven’t even had breakfast yet...?” She trailed off, trying to think back to the last time she ate. Maybe she’d had lunch yesterday? No, she definitely hadn’t. She couldn’t remember at all when the last time was.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Simon seemed to read her mind.</p>
<p>“So when’s the last time you ate?” Simon asked, in a tone that wasn’t quite rhetorical but also said that he already knew that either Zoey wouldn’t be able to remember, or that it had been forever and five years ago.</p>
<p>“Yesterday?” Zoey said, internally cursing herself for the question mark at the end of her sentence.</p>
<p>“Yesterday?” Simon repeated. “How about you go sit on one of the swings and I’ll go get you food?”</p>
<p>“I can get my own food, don’t worry,” Zoey said, getting to her feet. She swayed involuntarily, the black spots in her vision blotting it all out entirely, and Simon grabbed her by her middle, steadying her.</p>
<p>Too bad that the motion made Zoey both <em>incredibly</em> close to Simon, and also made her blush.</p>
<p>“Yeah... I’m gonna eat, Simon! I ate yesterday, I swear,” Zoey said, trying to work her way out of the situation in every way but physically.</p>
<p>She’d just leaned on Max and held his hand last night... and now she wanted to lean on Simon, let him get her food and take care of her.</p>
<p>“Are you sure? Because that’s not the way anyone should stand up, if they’re not developing or already have some sort of eating disorder. And eating disorders can be brought on by-“</p>
<p>“I’m fine!” Zoey said, a lot louder and snappier than she’d wanted to, making her regret it instantly, and Simon drop his hands from her waist.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry... I’m just... stressed,” Zoey said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Simon was right behind her, and Zoey didn’t have the courage to turn around and look him in the eye.</p>
<p>“I know you are. So please... eat something. And let me help. Just... whenever you’re ready?”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Zoey said, so softly that she was afraid that Simon hadn’t heard. But he came and walked around to face her, looking her straight in the eye.</p>
<p>He was so much taller than her... and that was hot?”</p>
<p>“I’m going to be here... I’ll let you take it at your own pace... but sooner or later, I’m going to help you. Whether you like it or not.”</p>
<p>“So it’s an ultimatum on my wanting to deal with it myself?”</p>
<p>“Again... you saw how good that worked out for me. But... I... I... If you’re taking too long and I’m scared about you, I’m going to take you aside and help you, and I’ll take you kicking and screaming if I have to.”</p>
<p>Zoey nodded slowly, looking down.</p>
<p>And goddamnit, did Simon <em>have</em> to burst into song right then and there? This meditation room had seen entirely too much song.</p>
<p>
  <em>I heard that you've been</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Self-medicating in the quiet of your room,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Your sweet, suburban tomb.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And if you need a friend,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I'll help you stitch up your wounds.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I heard that you've been</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Having some trouble finding your place in the world.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know how much that hurts,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But if you need a friend</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then please just say the word</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You've come this far,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You're all cleaned up,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You've made a mess again,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There's no more trying,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Time to sort yourself out</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hold on tight,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This ride is a wild one,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Make no mistake,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The day will come when you can't cover up what you've done,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Now don't lose your fight, kid,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It only takes a little push to pull on through,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With so much left to do,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You'll be missing out, and we'll be missing you.</em>
</p>
<p>After he was done, Zoey told him she was going to go eat, and he opened the door for her, letting her walk out, him behind her.</p>
<p>She headed for the bread bar, and loaded up a plate with two blueberry muffins and a piece of baguette.</p>
<p>Zoey sat at her desk, staring blankly at her screen as she inhaled all the food. It had probably been <em>far</em> longer than she thought it was when she ate last.</p>
<p>Eating felt like a huge chore, a chore that she couldn’t afford. She felt undeserving of it, almost, like she was undeserving of help.</p>
<p>She’d gotten her powers because the universe wanted her to (she assumed) help <em>other</em> people. So why, all of a sudden, were they singing about wanting to help her?</p>
<p>Zoey would solve the problem, one way or another, but it wouldn’t involve letting them coddle her.</p>
<p>______________</p>
<p>Zoey’s promotion was announced at the gathering of all SPRQ Point employees in the lobby, in the midst of all of Joan’s other announcements.</p>
<p>She announced that her campaign would be to encourage team building, but not just on certain floors. Joan wanted floors intermingling, because the culture of every floor wanting to beat out the others was toxic, according to her. And Zoey agreed.</p>
<p>So, Joan announced the company cruise, and also that they were starting a Mathletes competition, à la Mean Girls. Every floor would have their own five person team, and they’d compete in competitions starting a month from now, with a bracket style competition. There would even be participation from the fifth floor, because there were just enough people who still had offices in there to participate for the fifth floor.</p>
<p>The Mathletes thing was pretty cool, but Zoey was more concerned about the cruise. She was used to boating, had done a ton with her family, but every time they went sailing on the bay between March 1st and March 30th, she’d gotten horribly seasick. Every time, and only in March. And that one time when they’d gone on a cruise in the Bahamas, at least on the first day.</p>
<p>But it was mandatory, so she was going.</p>
<p>Joan had brochures for the cruise for every single employee, and on the back was written a number. There were six boats to accommodate everyone, and to promote multiple floors intermingling, the brochures would be randomly assigned, and the number you got was the boat you got.</p>
<p>Joan personally handed out brochures to each floor boss, including Zoey, who discovered a huge green 5 on the back of her brochure, and then ten people from HR were given baskets full of brochures and lines were formed to hand them out.</p>
<p>And then everyone went back to work.</p>
<p>Zoey was smart, she got into an elevator before the lines had actually really formed. She caught Simon’s eye from across the room as she waited for the elevator, and he nodded, giving her a smirk. He had probably won a lot of money on her.</p>
<p>She smirked back, playing right along.</p>
<p>Zoey managed to make a bit of headway in the completely empty floor, which was entirely too quiet for it being noon. She sat on the swing chairs, laptop on her lap, quietly typing.</p>
<p>After about ten minutes, the elevator dinged, and Joan came in, Ava hot on her heels.</p>
<p>“I just don’t believe that he offered <em>you</em> the job, rather than me! And who do you promote? Zoey never really struck me as brave enough to lead a team, much less a floor.”</p>
<p>Zoey stopped typing, and she kinda set her laptop down on the floor slowly, and moved to behind the ping pong table.</p>
<p>For that time, both women were silent (or talking too quiet for Zoey to hear) and then she heard Joan speak again, loud and clear and distinct.</p>
<p>“She has been leading my team amazingly, Ava, for your information. And as the acting CEO- who was approved by the board, no less, I think that you should show a little respect. Both for me, and for Zoey, who now ranks the same as you.”</p>
<p>“Her dad just died! You think someone’s going to be able to lead a floor correctly that way?” </p>
<p>“Why should you care about Zoey running the fourth floor? It doesn’t effect you very much, other than the fact that you’ll have to coordinate the Chirp project between the floors with her instead of me. And I thought you’d be fine with not having to work with me anymore.”</p>
<p>“I’ll have to submit to you like a little dog, let <em>you</em> run the show. You get promoted to CEO, and what do you do? You arrange for a cruise on the Bay, and math competitions. How helpful.”</p>
<p>“Ava... this is not your show to run. I don’t want to listen to you being mad about how you would do it <em>so</em> much better, because Danny Michael Davis promoted <em>me</em>. What I do is none of your business. What’re you gonna do, get the board and the shareholders to turn on me?”</p>
<p>“You know what... I might actually do that. Right after I take care of Zoey.”</p>
<p>“What? Who do <em>you</em> think would be better as the floor boss? I’d genuinely like to know.”</p>
<p>“Hannah Tunil, she works on my floor. Or if we have to hire from the fourth floor... then get an outside hire. Because all of your employees are idiots, Zoey included.”</p>
<p>“You hired Max and then fired him... seems more like you were trying to make the fourth floor unhappy than get a good team manager for the sixth floor.”</p>
<p>“This isn’t it! Honestly, if you’d been moved, I wouldn’t care less if Zoey got promoted. She’s incompetent, but I can deal with her. It’s the fact that you’re the CEO... I’m be going to let you be in charge of me... and you know that Danny Michael Davis wouldn’t let you fire me.”</p>
<p>“We’ll see about that. What exactly is he going to do?”</p>
<p>“He’s on sabbatical. Not in Bermuda. Unless he’s in his house in Bermuda?”</p>
<p>“Were you having an affair with him?!” Joan exclaimed suddenly.</p>
<p>Zoey was already feeling pretty shitty, but then the mental image of Ava and Danny Michael Davis going at it, it was just... yikes.</p>
<p>“And where did you hear that from?” Ava asked, low and dangerously quiet.</p>
<p>“How could I not tell?”</p>
<p>“How dare you accuse me of-“</p>
<p>“Ava. You had better let me do my job... or I’m going to fire you. I don’t care what Danny Michael Davis says... I’m sure by the time he gets back, you’ll be at Google or something and won’t care.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care if I get made the fucking CEO of Google, Joan! I’d come back <em>just</em> to spite you.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t really want peace when we called off the bake-off.”</p>
<p>“Hell no! I will do everything I can to oust you, Joan... I don’t care what I have to do.”</p>
<p>And with that, Zoey heard the music begin.</p>
<p>
  <em>It isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be, yeah</em>
</p>
<p>As it turned out, it was a duet, and Joan went first.</p>
<p>
  <em>You've been hanging round my boyfriend</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You've been sayin' that he's sweet, yeah</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Well girl, I know that you've been talking</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Because the talk is on the street</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You say that you are gonna steal his heart</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, sweetie you ain't gonna get that far</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You're after somethin' that don't belong to you</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, girlfriend I've got news for you.</em>
</p>
<p>Ava, obviously pissed, joined back in for the chorus as the two moved around the bullpen, singing</p>
<p>
  <em> It isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He ain't never, ever</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Never, never, never, never never never never never gonna be your man.</em>
</p>
<p>The second part, obviously, belonged to Ava, and as she sang, the two moved up into the hangout area. Zoey dove behind an isolation pod, trying to stay hidden as the two picked up a confrontational game of ping pong while singing.</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, I just ain't the kind of woman</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To pick the fruit off of your tree, girl</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And you keep saying that he's your man</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But that ain't what he said to me</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>See he blows me kisses as he drives away</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He sends me roses in the middle of the day, yeah</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You think it's you that he's thinking of</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But I'm the one he really, really loves girl!</em>
</p>
<p>Ava punctuated her statement by hitting the ping pong ball far over Joan’s shoulder. Joan, for her part, jumped up onto the table, and Ava followed, the two up in each other’s faces as they sang the chorus.</p>
<p>
  <em>I said it isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He ain't never, ever</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Never, never, never, never gonna be you'll see</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No it isn't, it wasn't, it ain't never gonna be</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He ain't never, ever</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Never, never, never never gonna be your man, girl!</em>
</p>
<p><em>What are you doin' layin' and hangin' back?</em>, Ava sung-spoke confrontationally.</p>
<p><em>Don't you know it girl?</em> Joan sang back angrily.</p>
<p><em>Just as I suspected</em>, Ava sung, looking smug. The next part they both sang, jumping off the ping pong table (in heels, no less!) and running back down the stairs as Zoey poked her head out to watch.</p>
<p>
  <em>You been talkin' that la la, and that ya ya</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And that yin and that yang but the man is mine, hey.</em>
</p>
<p>Joan would not stop, and couldn’t stop, as she took the next verse, climbing on top of Tobin’s desk. Ava stood on Max’s old desk.</p>
<p>
  <em>He blows me kisses as he drives away</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He sends me flowers in the middle of the day, yeah</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You think it's you that he's thinking of</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I know I'm the one that he really, really, really loves</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>What am I trying to say Miss It?</em>
</p>
<p><em> What are you trying to say?</em>, Ava sung, jumping down from the desk in tandem with Joan as they raced back to the spot in front of Joan’s office that they’d been standing in front of before.</p>
<p>
  <em>Get real!</em>
</p>
<p>And with that, the song suddenly ended, and Ava shook her head before walking away, heels clicking as she hit the elevator button hard. Joan retreated to her office.</p>
<p>Honestly? Zoey was kinda into it. They sang well together... too bad Ava had openly said that she was going to mount a coup of sorts on Joan.</p>
<p>Zoey hid in the bathroom until the others trickled back upstairs.</p>
<p>________________</p>
<p>At the dock on the day of the company cruise, Zoey still hadn’t even told her family about being promoted, she’d just continued helping in any way she could and going either to the house or the hospital every day after work, even as the responsibilities began to fill up Zoey’s arms, making her even more overwhelmed than she’d already been.</p>
<p>And worse, Emily was still in the hospital. She was doing okay, just not at all ready to go home. So Zoey spent half her afternoons at the hospital, helping her and David adjust, especially as they parented with Zach out of the hospital but Emily still there, and Zoey had certainly had at least two panic attacks in bathrooms at the hospital, and Max hadn’t been there to help her.</p>
<p>She hadn’t even <em>seen</em> Max since then, she’d been so busy.</p>
<p>But the point was, Zoey having panic attacks was becoming a lot more common. She’d even had one in her own apartment.</p>
<p>But she set it all aside and went to the dock in the shirt that Simon had given her, skinny jeans, sneakers, and nothing else. So, right next to the Bay on March 5th, she was freezing, and already felt nauseous looking at the waves, which were huge and choppy from the hard wind.</p>
<p>The groups were divided up by boat number, and Zoey’s boat 5 also had Tobin on it, the only person from her floor that she saw in the group.</p>
<p>Tobin was wearing a blue and yellow letter jacket, boy jeans, and Vans, and was holding his hands behind his back. “Heyyy, Big Boss!” He greeted happily.</p>
<p>“You’re in a good mood,” Zoey commented, walking up to him. “Nice jacket.”</p>
<p>Tobin turned around, revealing ‘BROGRAMMERS’ written across the middle of the back in yellow block letters, and above that, ‘TOBIN.’</p>
<p>He also revealed that he was holding another one in his hands.</p>
<p>“Niiice. Who’s the other one for?” Zoey asked.</p>
<p>Tobin twirled back around dramatically, and set the extra jacket into Zoey’s unsuspecting arms. “You, of course!”</p>
<p>“Wait... are you kidding?” Zoey was genuinely shocked. Tobin had made a passing comment about how he might make her an honorary Brogrammer, but that had been awhile ago, <em>and</em> she was definitely not a bro. Far from it.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t kidding about honorary Brogrammerdom... but now you’re a real one. Welcome to the bros!”</p>
<p>Zoey unfolded the jacket, seeing the same ‘BROGRAMMERS’ on the back and her name above it, and the number 1 on both sleeves.</p>
<p>A glance at Tobin’s sleeves showed that he had the number 6 on his sleeves.</p>
<p>“I’m... I’m number one?” Zoey said, probably entirely too touched by this gesture.</p>
<p>“Yeah! We love you as floor boss already, but you would’ve been number 1 even if you hadn’t been promoted. Especially since we’d already ordered these before you got promoted.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? You guys really... you really like me that much?” Zoey found herself swiping a tear from her eye.</p>
<p>“You’re crying? It does just happen to be a jacket... but it’s a good cry, right?”</p>
<p>Zoey nodded. “Yeah. I dunno... it just kinda.... I’m touched, Tobin. Thank you so much.”</p>
<p>“No problem. Anytime you wanna play Words With Friends, I’m game. Oh, and you’re totally gonna be on the fourth floor’s Mathletes team.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know... doesn’t Tulsi have a degree in mathematics?”</p>
<p>“She does. So she’s on the team. It’s a five person team, so me, you, Tulsi, either Andrew or Tom, and Leif.”</p>
<p>“You’re sure you want me?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure that you probably aced math in school. Also... you’re lowkey a genius. Just saying.”</p>
<p>“I really hope you’re not being a kissup. I’m doing both my old job and Joan’s job, nobody else is getting promoted.”</p>
<p>“No, I’m just.... number one, you’re genuinely awesome and it’s time people start saying that to you, and number two... I know what it’s like. My sister died two years ago- and please don’t say ‘oh, I’m sorry,’ because I hate that, I’m Gucci and Versace and all that- but I know what it’s like to loose a family member. It fucking sucks. So the least I can do is give you a jacket.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Tobin,” Zoey said, rubbing her eyes.</p>
<p>“Well... put it on!”</p>
<p>Zoey did, and was pretty grateful. Not only was it a pretty awesome jacket, she was also freezing her ass off, and the jacket was helpful, because warmth.</p>
<p>Finally, about twenty minutes later, they got on the stupid boat. It had a covered ‘inside’ area and an ‘outside’ area, and even if it was frigid and the wind was blowing, the choppy waves seeming to get bigger now that she was on the boat, Zoey sat on the outside.</p>
<p>They cruised out of the dock, and Zoey almost immediately started to get ragingly seasick. She’d sat on the outside specifically so she could lean over if she lost her cup of coffee to the waves.</p>
<p>The staff on the boat brought everyone out onto the outside area, along with a limbo bar and some margaritas and nachos, and Zoey’s stomach heaved from the smell of food.</p>
<p>They played around with the limbo bar and some other games, such as a round of shuffleboard, but Zoey stayed seated on the side, head between her knees to try and get rid of the nausea.</p>
<p>And that’s when her phone dinged with a text message.</p>
<p>
  <b>David: Emily’s hemorrhaging. She’s not doing great. [1:42 PM]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Me: Fuck, I’m on a boat on a company cruise. I’ll come as soon as I get off. [1:42 PM]</b>
</p>
<p>Zoey’s heart was in her stomach and her stomach in her throat.</p>
<p>She just couldn’t fucking <em>handle</em> this, dropping her head into her hands and letting out a sob that was lost to the wind.</p>
<p>Eventually, everyone (who seemed to be having a good time; good job, Joan!) went back inside where it was heated and not windy, leaving a tear stained Zoey and a group of people having a conversation on the other end on the outside alone.</p>
<p>As they sailed further out, closer to the open ocean, the waves got worse, the boat rocking hard. And it rocked a <em>lot</em>, in a way that made Zoey wonder if it was dangerous. At the very least, it was dangerous for her stomach.</p>
<p>After one particularly huge wave, Zoey’s stomach heaved hard, and she leaned over the edge, her whole body down to her hips folded over the side of the boat as she hacked and threw up whatever little bit was in her stomach.</p>
<p>She was still throwing up when another wave rocked the boat, so hard that Zoey’s feet lost grip, and so did her hands, and then-</p>
<p>It was cold.</p>
<p>Zoey flailed weakly, barely able to move in the freezing cold water of the Bay. The sudden shock of the water after she’d fallen had stung, and she felt paralysed.</p>
<p>Her lungs burned, hot while the rest of her was cold.</p>
<p>Zoey couldn’t do it. She was too far under, the surface was too high up and far away- what was the use? She’d never make it. </p>
<p>It felt much better just to relax.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>🙃</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Tenth Day To The Thirteenth Day (And A Good, Healthy Dose Of A+ Mental Health)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey wakes up alone and feels generally awful for more than a couple days afterwards.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*chuckles* im in danger</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey woke up.</p><p>Her vision were blurry at first as she slowly blinked awake, but slowly, her surroundings focused in, though her ears rang and she heard nothing else from that sense.</p><p>She was staring up at the ceiling, white. She weakly looked around at the white walls, and the ringing gradually subsided, and so the beeping was heard.</p><p>Zoey turned her head, an action that took a frightening amount of effort, and looked over at the machines, and down at her arm, seeing the IV in it, and finally, realised the presence of a tube down her throat.</p><p>She tried to make a noise or call for help, and couldn’t, the tube was making it plenty too hard to speak. </p><p>Her chest hurt, her throat hurt, she was sore all over, and she was fully aware of the fact that it was plenty warm in the room and yet she was freezing.</p><p>Her memories slowly came back to her- the boat! And getting seasick, and falling off.</p><p>Zoey remembered how badly her chest and throat had hurt, and the feeling of darkness sweeping her away from what was probably agonising pain as she drowned.</p><p>Oh! Someone was probably here. They were probably at least in the waiting room, or maybe they were right next to her...?</p><p>Zoey turned to her other side, excited to see a familiar face, and was met with a white wall.</p><p>She looked around the room frantically.</p><p>Nobody was there. Why was nobody there? Surely they’d called her parents-</p><p>Right. Her dad was dead. But her mom... she craved her mother’s voice to say ‘Oh, Zoey,’ and hold her tight, or David to tease her lovingly but in the end give her a hug, or at least one of her friends, or even Emily-</p><p>Right. Emily was... she was hemorrhaging in the hospital. Was this the same hospital? It was quite possible that with where the boat had been, there had been another, closer hospital. And with what Emily was going through, it made sense that they wouldn’t come all the way to her.</p><p>She’d be fine, anyway. It wasn’t like she had a kid and husband who needed her... and she wasn’t dying.</p><p>So why was she crying?</p><p>Maybe because there was nobody here... and with all her insistence on not letting anyone help her, she was bound and ready for fucking <em>someone</em> to hold her.</p><p>Zoey wanted her dad there, because he would’ve wiped her tears with a crooked pointer finger, he would’ve said ‘Hey, Zoey Bug,’ and cupped her cheek and told her that everything was going to be alright. And then he would tell her a story about something that had happened to him back in college or something, something hilarious. She would laugh and then wince in pain from the tube down her neck, and he would rub her back and comfort her.</p><p>Her throat hurt all the more with the sobs that were racking her body.</p><p>Zoey curled up into a little ball, careful of the tubes she was hooked up to, and sobbed. She was too <em>sad</em> for comprehension, just curled up in that little ball like a small child and sobbing her eyes out.</p><p>Eventually, a little blonde nurse came in, probably just to check up on her, and was visibly pleasantly surprised when she saw Zoey awake- and then her face softened, like a mother’s, when she saw that she was crying.</p><p>“Hey... you’re okay, miss,” she comforted quietly. “You’re going to be just fine.”</p><p>Zoey shook her head and sobbed even harder.</p><p>“Here... now that you’re awake, I’ll get a doctor in to see about removing the tube down your throat. Let me take your vitals first, okay? Lay back for me.”</p><p>Zoey obeyed silently, shaking a little bit. The nurse took her vitals quietly, and told Zoey she’d be right back with a doctor.</p><p>The doctor, Doctor DuMarine, was a tall black man with close cropped dark hair and a big smile of intimidatingly white teeth, in unflattering green scrubs. Honestly, if Zoey was at all in her right mind, she would appreciate his inherent hotness a lot more, between his appearance and his <em>very</em> hot name.</p><p>He was very kind and very direct, removing the tube from her throat after taking her vitals again and making sure she was breathing okay... or something. </p><p>“Alright, you can talk now, Miss Clarke,” Doctor DuMarine said kindly.</p><p>“How long was I asleep?” Zoey asked, a raspy whisper all she could muster up. Her throat felt weak, and still in so much pain.</p><p>“A few hours. One of the employees on the boat was able to rescue you without drowning themselves, and you were rushed here, you were under for probably two minutes, but a little longer and you probably wouldn’t have made it.”</p><p>“Where’s my mom?”</p><p>“We... aren’t sure. We called her repeatedly, but she never picked up.”</p><p>“Oh.” Zoey’s voice was already barely audible, but she dropped it down a level.</p><p>“Your phone and watch were, obviously, destroyed, but on the bright side, your clothes were salvaged and didn’t have to be cut off. And honestly... pretty cool outfit. We have them in the dryer right now, but obviously, you won’t be leaving for at least two nights.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“We can provide you a phone to call in sick to work.”</p><p>“I’ll do that.”</p><p>___________________</p><p>Nobody visited Zoey.</p><p>She was there for two nights and a bit of the third day, sleeping and calling in sick every morning. With no phone, nobody could text her, and ask if she was alright... and she wondered if they were.</p><p>Finally, late in the afternoon on the third day, the doctors let her out, sending her with a prescription for painkillers and an order to come back in a week for a checkup. She was relieved to be out of the place... and that was about it.</p><p>She didn’t really feel like <em>Zoey</em> anymore, she felt like a stranger in her own body.</p><p>Zoey felt starved for attention, and for love. The one time she did want to be paid attention to and helped... nobody was there.</p><p>But what did she do, after getting out of the hospital at 4pm on a Wednesday afternoon?</p><p>She went straight for the hospital where Emily was.</p><p>Zoey had entirely too much hospital in her life.</p><p>To her relief, the nurses took her back to a smiling Emily, who was walking around bouncing her baby.</p><p>“Oh! Zoey! Thank god you’re okay!” Emily exclaimed, rushing over to her.</p><p>“I’m fine... no, thank god <em>you’re</em> okay. I’m sorry I didn’t come before-“</p><p>Emily walked right past her and called out the door, “David! Maggie!”</p><p>Zoey sighed internally, as her brother and mother filed in, initially suspicious, and then relief filled their faces when they saw a bewildered looking Zoey.</p><p>“Oh, thank god,” David sighed, and her mom just smiled widely... which turned into a suspicious look.</p><p>“So, where were you, Zoey?” Her mom asked.</p><p>“I... I was sick. And I didn’t want to get the baby sick.”</p><p>Her post dad death inability to control when she said something in a monotone voice was really getting on her nerves, because it happened at all the times when she was trying to make sure she wasn’t found out as being not okay.</p><p>“And why didn’t you answer anyone’s texts?” Her mom pressed.</p><p>“I dropped my phone into the bathtub... I’m getting a new one in a couple days. I’m sorry I worried you guys... I was just feeling awful for a few days. And as for not coming after the company cruise, I was ragingly seasick and barely had the energy to make it home. But again... I’m sorry.”</p><p>Zoey usually wasn’t a particularly <em>great</em> liar, but the lie came easy to her.</p><p>Why didn’t she just tell them? What was the harm in doing so? It wasn’t like they were going to beat her up for having nearly drowned.</p><p>Because she was <em>afraid</em> of them caring.</p><p>The realisation hit her like a train... and yet... it didn’t alarm her. </p><p>Luckily, her mom bought her lie.</p><p>“Well... as long as you’re okay,” she said, and she could tell that her mom believed her.</p><p>Which made her feel <em>awful</em>. </p><p>She did follow through with getting a phone, buying one on the spot at a Verizon store, and going home, planning on finding the little notebook she put everyone’s numbers in, just in case, and for once, being a little bit overbearing paid off.</p><p>It was too bad that Mo opened up his door when he heard Zoey’s footsteps.</p><p>“Either I’m going nuts, or that’s actually Zoey Clarke, actually at her home!”</p><p>“Sorry... I’ve been AWOL.”</p><p>“No kidding,” Mo said, flipping his Ariana Grande ponytail. He was looking fabulous as always, wearing a long sleeved top completely encrusted in blue and silver sequins, and the sleeves were open on the inside, attaching back to the other side of the sleeve with similarly sequinned bands. Topping it off was black jeans and high, pink combat boots. </p><p>“So where were you, Zoey The All Know-y?” Mo pressed.</p><p>“Mo... in any other situation, I’d tell you... but I really don’t want to.”</p><p>“Mm. So I’m assuming it’s not boy drama?”</p><p>“It is very much not boy drama. Can you just... I just... yeah.”</p><p>“Yeah? Christ, did you kill someone? I would’ve helped you hide the body-“</p><p>“It’s not that! Just... just please drop it.”</p><p>“Is it why your voice sounds like you put it through a meat grinder like people think Carol Baskin put her husband through one?”</p><p>“Sure. Just... I don’t wanna talk about it.”</p><p>Mo held up his hands in surrender. “If you say so, Zoey.”</p><p>“I do say so.”</p><p>That night, Zoey put all her numbers into her new phone, and sent any important contacts the same message:</p><p>
  <b>Me: Hi! This is Zoey Clarke, I dropped my phone into the bathtub and just got a new one. Just sending this so you can get my new number! 🙂 [6:23 PM] </b>
</p><p>Max was the first to respond.</p><p>
  <b> Max: OMG YOU’RE OKAY!!!!!! Zoey i was SO worried what the hell happened to you?[6:23 PM] </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’m sorry, Max. I was sick all weekend and dropped my phone in the bathtub to boot. [6:25 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: There was a whole thing about a SPRQ Point employee falling into the Bay on Sunday, I was worried it was you. [6:25 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I don’t know who that was, but all that happened to me was I was horribly seasick and came down with a horrible fever. [6:27 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: I am SO glad you’re okay, but next time find a way to tell me! I’d have brought over soup and shit, nobody should have to suffer through that alone. [6:28 PM]</b>
</p><p>Zoey didn’t respond, because she broke out into sobs, just fucking wishing so <em>hard</em> that they’d known and had come to see her.</p><p>Multiple texts rang in responding to her text, probably including one from Max, and Zoey just curled up into a ball on her cold, dusty hardwood floors, in her stupid, barren, lifeless apartment.</p><p>She wanted help, but she was <em>terrified</em> of it.</p><p>All she had to do was text her mom, or Max or Simon or go across the hall to Mo, and she would get plentiful amounts of help, emotional support... love.</p><p>But she didn’t feel deserving of it.</p><p>Zoey didn’t want it the exact same as she would <em>kill</em> for it.</p><p>________________</p><p>Walking into the fourth floor on Thursday morning felt odd, she’d gotten used to waking up in a hospital with tubes in her arm and nurses and doctors peering at her... and now, everyone was staring at her.</p><p>“What, I call in sick for three days and you’re all giving me puppy dog eyes?” Zoey joked, a bit hollowly. </p><p>Tobin raised his eyebrows. “We were worried that you were the one who fell off. I didn’t see you on the boat after someone fell, and then you called in sick.”</p><p>“Don’t worry! I’m fine, seriously,” Zoey said, sitting down at her desk with her work bag. “Don’t worry about me... I’m going to bust out this entire 66 section today, get right caught up.”</p><p>“If you say so...” Leif chimed in, looking pretty darn unconvinced.</p><p>The same expression was painted across the room, even Simon had come out of his office and was staring at her.</p><p>“Seriously, everyone! I’m fine. I’m going to bust out code, I’m going to deal with everything else that needs to be done... it’s happening today!”</p><p>Something Joan had failed to tell her was that she was in charge of overseeing the Marketing and Market Research department, as well as coordinating with Ava on the Chirp, and making progress reports, and... it was a lot, on top of all the coding she had to do. Joan had been directing the programmers before her, but she hadn’t been doing any programming herself.</p><p>Zoey worked straight through the day, feeling like she was collecting dust the way she sat there, the only bit of her that was moving was her fingers.</p><p>Work was a much needed escape from feeling ragingly depressed and horribly sad and alone, and Zoey didn’t look up from her computer, coding and reporting and directing, until she looked up and realised that it was dark outside and everyone else had gone home.</p><p>Everyone else, except for Simon, who was walking towards her, and caught her eye.</p><p>“It’s okay that you got sick, happens to the best of us... but damn, next time do a bit of work from home?” He joked.</p><p>Zoey ducked her head down, staring at her sneakers. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”</p><p>“Hey, woah,” Simon said, noticing the inherent sadness in her voice. “You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah... just... kinda getting by.”</p><p>“You eating okay?”</p><p>“I ate <em>so</em> many grilled cheeses while I was sick,” Zoey said. Which was true... it seemed like the only thing that the hospital served that was remotely good.</p><p>“You feeling okay, mentally?”</p><p>“Yep! Just tired. I coded an entire huge section today, and caught up on everyone else.”</p><p>“You’re aware, though, that you’re doing the work of two people? Either be Joan or be a programmer... you’re being two people at once.”</p><p>“Joan undersold what all I’d have to do and the fact that I’d have to keep my old job... but it’s okay. I’m managing.”</p><p>“I think... you need to go find Joan and tell her that she gave you an extra job on top of yours, and then someone needs to hire someone to fill whatever job you don’t want.”</p><p>“Simon... I’m fine. Seriously, okay? You’re worrying so much that you’re worrying me.”</p><p>“I just know how it is... and you don’t seem to want to let anyone help you.”</p><p>“I will ask for your help when I’m ready for it,” Zoey said, shutting her laptop and putting it in her work bag, before standing up. </p><p>“Zoey...”</p><p>“Simon, I’m okay.”</p><p>Simon moved closer- almost <em>too</em> close. Zoey could almost feel his breathing, the space between them minuscule. </p><p>“When are you going to let me love you, Zoey?”</p><p>“I...”</p><p>He kissed her, hard and yet chaste and loving.</p><p>And Zoey kissed back, pulling him in impossibly closer with a hand on the back of his head. Simon’s hands moved to her waist, her back, her other hand-</p><p>And when they broke out of it for air, Zoey stepped back.</p><p>“Simon... I... I can’t. Not right now... I just... I need to focus on me, my family, and work. I can’t.... be in a relationship... not right now.”</p><p>Simon nodded. “I understand.” And Zoey knew he wasn’t lying... but she still felt horribly guilty.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Simon... I just <em>can’t</em> do it right now. But... I’m touched that you care.”</p><p>“Zoey... you reached out to me when I was in a horrible place and helped me for almost no reason... you shouldn’t be touched that I care. I care because I’m not an asshole and you cared about <em>me</em>. And any decision you make about... about this... I’m okay with it. Because I know that you need to heal.”</p><p>“Thank you for understanding... Simon,” Zoey said, a whisper almost lost between them.</p><p>“Get some rest, Zoey... I want you to be okay.” He turned around, going to leave</p><p>“Simon. Wait.”</p><p>He turned back around slowly.</p><p>When he turned around, Zoey’s expression was stoic, but slowly... she betrayed just a shred of how <em>awful</em> she was feeling.</p><p>“I feel terrible, Simon... just... in general.”</p><p>Well, he came right back over to her.</p><p>“Okay, tell me what I can do.”</p><p>“You’ve been waiting for this moment, huh?”</p><p>“For a very long time, Zoey. I knew it would come eventually... so I prepared to help you.”</p><p>“I just... I just want you to talk about something. Something completely unrelated... something funny that happened to you. And then, I want to go home and go to bed. But... I’d rather have you around for ten more minutes.”</p><p>“How about this? We’ll take the BART to your house, and I’ll talk on the way.”</p><p>“Okay,” Zoey said, after a brief moment of hesitation.</p><p>Simon put his arm around her, and he walked her to the elevator, out to the street, and to the BART station.</p><p>On the way, he began telling her about a particularly crazy high school blowout he’d been to in his senior year, involving sexy pirate costumes, people playing a game which involved them shooting rubber bands into a chandelier and seeing if they stayed, and spiked punch.</p><p>But Zoey was barely listening. She just leaned into him, on the bus and on the streets, hearing him talk and taking comfort in it.</p><p>He walked her to her door, and waited for her to unlock the door before he said goodbye.</p><p>Zoey responded by giving him a brief, but tight and utterly grateful, hug.</p><p>He hugged her back, snug and warm.</p><p>“Thank you... you have no idea how much just that helped,” Zoey breathed, before breaking the embrace.</p><p>“I’ll keep on helping you, Zoey... as long and as much as you need me.”</p><p>Zoey smiled, forced. “Thank you.”</p><p>Did Zoey really feel better? Partially. A human had shown care in her, she had had a human focus on her for twenty minutes, and she’d gotten a hug <em>and</em> a passionate kiss... so that was nice.</p><p>But it didn’t change the fact that she just ate a chocolate pudding cup and sat up almost all night on her laptop, working.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, please oh god please don’t kill me (zomax shippers OR the zoey support squad) <s>it doesn’t get better</s></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Fourteenth Day (And A Bit Of Wonderment And General Self Destruction)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey makes a career choice, and informs Max of her choice in her (prospective) romantic relationship.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this chapter has max so pls don’t killeth me!!!! but still no songs dhdhdhsb</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was in the water.</p>
<p>It was so cold, so <em>frigid</em>, that she was paralysed, she couldn’t fight as she went under the surface and continued to fall down.</p>
<p>Zoey wondered if she’d float face up or down when they found the body.</p>
<p>She saw the twinkling lights above slowly fade away, and felt herself relax, letting herself breathe in water and forget all her cares, even though every instinct said to <em>fight</em>. She couldn’t! It was too hard!</p>
<p>And then she woke up with a gasp.</p>
<p>Zoey had stayed up until probably about 2am working, trying desperately to catch up on what she’d missed, and fallen asleep curled up in a ball, head on her keyboard, and she’d been resting on the J key, sending an eternal stream of Js for god only knows how long.</p>
<p>She sighed, scrolling back up to find where the Js started and to cut them out of the report she was writing.</p>
<p>Zoey was overwhelmed, and Simon was totally right, she needed to step down and let Joan hire someone else in her place, because this was entirely too much.</p>
<p>In fact, she texted her right then and there.</p>
<p><b>Me: It’s 3 in the morning, I’m well aware, but I just wanted you to know that I’m severely overwhelmed and would like to go back to my old position, I don’t want your job and mine, Joan. I’ll keep at it until you find someone else to take your job. [3:22 AM]</b>
</p>
<p>

It was something that Zoey would not have had the courage for in any other situation, at any other time of the day. But she did it, and that was that.</p>
<p>Joan texted back at 6am, while Zoey was getting ready for work.</p>
<p>
  <b>Joan: For the record, I know that you were the one who fell off the boat, but I don’t care that you haven’t told your team, that’s fine. I guess I’ll see what I can do for an actual replacement for me, it was probably unfair of me to put that on you. But please don’t stay up until 3am again. [6:02 AM]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Me: Thank you, Joan. [6:06 AM]</b>
</p>
<p>That was... simpler than she thought it would be.</p>
<p>But actually... this would probably satisfy Ava, who clearly didn’t think she’d be a good leader. Maybe Hannah from the sixth floor <em>would</em> come run this one.</p>
<p>Zoey put on a green sweater, a black and white striped shirt underneath, whose collar she tucked over the neckline of the sweater, black pants, and her trusty white sneakers. Her laptop went into her bag, all her other work materials, grabbed her Brogrammers jacket, because Tobin would be happy about her wearing it and she didn’t immediately see any other jacket.</p>
<p>Tobin, of course, made an unnecessarily big deal of her wearing the jacket, and Zoey smiled softly at him.</p>
<p>Joan came into the floor for the first time in several days (unless she’d been in when she was ‘sick’) and of course, called Zoey into her office.</p>
<p>“So. You’re not good with the promotion?”</p>
<p>“It’s not that. It’s that I’m doing the work of two people... and that’d be okay ‘temporarily’ if ‘temporarily’ was a week or two, but not for twelve to eighteen months, Joan. And I should’ve realised several days ago that this would be too much.”</p>
<p>Joan gave her a questioning look. “Did Ava talk to you?”</p>
<p>“About the Chirp? Yeah.” Zoey decided that telling Joan she witnessed her and Ava’s confrontation was probably <em>not</em> a good idea.</p>
<p>“Anything else?”</p>
<p>“What’re you getting at, Joan?”</p>
<p>Joan hesitated. “Ava never wanted you to have that job. She saw you as unfit, and basically told me she was going to stage a mutiny against me, starting with taking you down. So. Did she intimidate you?”</p>
<p>“What?! No! I’m just overwhelmed, what with everything with my family, and then having to your job and also still be a programmer and lead the programmers... yeah, I’m not doing great. And I got sick and fell behind a <em>lot</em>.”</p>
<p>“Yeah... ‘sick,’” Joan quipped, air quotes around the word ‘sick.’ </p>
<p>“I was in the hospital, nobody visited me, and I was sick enough to be there for three days! I can’t deal with this in my life, Joan.... not your job, not your drama with Ava... just let me have my old job back? Please? I’ll keep doing my old one, but I’m not cut out for this.”</p>
<p>Joan sighed. “And you’re sure you don’t want to just take my job and leave your old one?”</p>
<p>“And then just go back? I’d rather stay where I am for the time being, no matter who’s in charge of this floor, and then I’ll advance when it’s not temporary. But... coding is my life. I love doing it. And I love managing a team... but I want to code and manage, not just manage.”</p>
<p>Joan rubbed her eyes. “Point taken. Thank you for your honesty, and for saying this now, rather than later.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for understanding, Joan.”</p>
<p>“No need to do my old job, I’ll cover that or have someone else cover it while we interview replacements. You should focus on coding.”</p>
<p>“Seriously, thank you, Joan.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for being honest,” Joan said sincerely.</p>
<p>Joan followed her out of her office (which was bare of personal items; Joan obviously didn’t really go in there anymore), and the two bade each other goodbye before Joan headed for the elevator and Zoey, back to her desk.</p>
<p>“So, what’s the scoop?” Tobin asked, rolling his chair up to her as she rubbed her temples.</p>
<p>“I stepped down from being Joan... I’m just gonna be Zoey.”</p>
<p>It was a bummer, Zoey was pretty happy about advancing in her career before she realised that it was very much only temporary and a crushing amount of work- but she would’ve stayed and probably worked herself half to death, if not for Simon.</p>
<p>“Aw, man. You’ll still always be the Big Boss to me, anyway,” Tobin said.</p>
<p>“Wait, Zoey stepped down?” Tom asked, stopping on his way back from the coffee bar. “Does that mean I get my money back for betting on Leif?”</p>
<p>“It does not! The bet was who would get promoted, there was no clause saying that if she stepped down after a few days, the losers would get their money back. Now zip it.”</p>
<p>“Aw, Tobin-“</p>
<p>“As your team leader, <em>not</em> as your floor boss, though... let the boy have his money, Tom, and wait until the Oscar betting pool comes around, or March Madness... has that happened yet?”</p>
<p>Tom shook his head. “You have no idea what March Madness is, right?”</p>
<p>“Not a clue,” Zoey said.</p>
<p>Tom muttered under his breath as he walked back to his desk.</p>
<p>“Now, get back to work, Tobin. Now that I’m not doing progress reports and overseeing marketing and shit, we’re getting this whole bit done today.”</p>
<p>Tobin smiled. “I like your style, Clarke.”</p>
<p>After an hour of straight, productive coding, Zoey’s phone buzzed on her desk.</p>
<p>
  <b>Max: I haven’t seen you in entirely too long! Wanna meet me for lunch? [10:43 AM]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Me: Sure! Do you want to go to the Thai place, down the block from me, or somewhere closer to me? Either way, I’m not leaving until noon. [10:45 AM]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Max: Nope, works for me! I have something to tell you. Around noon it is, see you then! [10:46 AM]</b>
</p>
<p><em>Shit!</em> People saying that they had to tell someone something either meant something really good or really bad... and judging by Max’s tone in his texts, it was really good... unless he was being sarcastic?</p>
<p>Yeah, way to make her worry while she worked until noon. </p>
<p>Finally, she got up and out for lunch, walking three blocks to the little Thai place.</p>
<p>Max was waiting outside, in jeans, sneakers, and a green shirt that read, ‘Yeah, I’m a Star Wars Fan!’ and then, under it, a picture of the Java logo.</p>
<p>“Nice shirt,” Zoey commented.</p>
<p>Max beamed from ear to ear when he saw her.</p>
<p>Greaaaat. He probably wanted to kiss her. Which... she didn’t need him to kiss her, just like she didn’t need Simon to kiss her.</p>
<p>She needed to.... heal.</p>
<p><em>You don’t deserve it,</em> a voice whispered in the back of her head.</p>
<p>Zoey smiled back at Max, though not nearly as wide and not at all happily, though she tried to make it look pretty freaking happy.</p>
<p>“You feeling okay? Because I do <em>not</em> want to come down with something.”</p>
<p>“I’m all clear,” Zoey said, giving him a big thumbs up.  </p>
<p>“Thank god. Shaaaall we?” He asked, opening the door for her.</p>
<p>“Maybe chivalry isn’t dead,” Zoey joked, walking in.</p>
<p>She didn’t miss that Max pulled out her chair for her, and pushed it back in.</p>
<p>It was a sit down restaurant, but Yelp had said that their service was stupidly fast. The waitress got their orders along with their drink orders, Max having pad thai, and Zoey going with sen khao soi. </p>
<p>“So... what was the thing you wanted to tell me about?”</p>
<p>Max smiled. “It’s amazing, Zoey... you’re going to love it.”</p>
<p>“Not sure I can love it if you keep dragging this out and make me wonder what the heck it is for much longer.”</p>
<p>Max laughed. “Okay... so. Picture this. Me freelance programming, but also freelancing graphic design.”</p>
<p>“Freelance graphic design?”</p>
<p>“I did happen to have a minor in graphic design for both my bachelor and my masters, I’m actually rather good at it. I kinda miss doing it.”</p>
<p>“I’ve actually never seen your graphic design... but I’m not opposed to this. Actually... I think it’s really good.”</p>
<p>Zoey was genuinely happy for him. She had to admit she was... kinda attracted to the fact that Max was taking the initiative and doing his own thing. For the longest time, he was content where he was... and then he got fired... and so far, it was turning out pretty darn good for him.</p>
<p>“Okay, if all goes well... maybe you could start your own small business? It wouldn’t be huge, but it’d be like, Max Richman’s Coding And Graphic Design, INC.”</p>
<p>“Maybe more like an LLC, than an INC.”</p>
<p>“I was throwing it out there, but I also happen to have minored in business for both of my degrees, so I think I know what the actual thing you’d be would be, for your information,” Zoey asserted.</p>
<p>“Okay, all that aside... that’s a pretty good idea. But for now... Max the Freelancer.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s really good for you, choosing a good path for yourself and really advancing in your career.”</p>
<p>“You’re a pretty good human being, Zoey, you’re supportive of everything I do. You’d be supportive of me jumping off a bridge, for Christ’s sake.”</p>
<p>The compliment went in one ear and out the other. Because Zoey couldn’t believe such a thing. That she was a quote unquote ‘good human being?’ No. </p>
<p>“Is that an insult? Because I would not condone that, under any circumstances. Period. The end. I just... think what you’re doing is super cool. That’s all.”</p>
<p>“You’re the best, Zoey,” Max asserted.</p>
<p>Zoey just smiled, fake.</p>
<p>“Okay, so... how is it going? With.... everything,” Max asked, getting a bit more serious.</p>
<p>“It’s... it’s going. I’m taking it one day at a time. I briefly got promoted to be both Joan and Zoey, and then Simon made me realise that that was stupid.”</p>
<p>“Okay, you mean to tell me that you got promoted, and you didn’t tell me?” Max’s tone was kidding... but.</p>
<p>“I... didn’t actually tell anyone. Of course, Joan announced it and all, but... I didn’t tell my family.”</p>
<p>“Why not?” Max asked, frowning.</p>
<p>“I felt.... I just... it slipped my mind,” Zoey lied.</p>
<p>“Okay... why, for real, Zoey?”</p>
<p>“I felt like it was unimportant... because of Zach and all.”</p>
<p>“You think that your family wouldn’t have cared? That their daughter and sister got a major promotion... even if it was brief. Why was it brief, by the way?”</p>
<p>“Because I was being Joan and Zoey. I was doing everything Joan had done, and everything I was already doing.”</p>
<p>“Okay, oof. I see why. But... why didn’t you just drop your old job and go fully to being floor boss?”</p>
<p>“Because... programming is my lifelong love. I like managing, but I also love coding, and I don’t know what I’d do without it. And it would’ve only been for twelve to eighteen months... I didn’t want to advance and then go back to where I was. So I told Joan this morning, and I went back to being just plain old Zoey.”</p>
<p>“Okay, I respect that. But you’re not just plain old Zoey... you’re plain old Zoey who’s a freaking Brogrammer! Congrats... bro?”</p>
<p>Zoey laughed, half real and half forced. “Tobin gave it to me... all the Brogrammers have them, I assume. Tobin and Leif and I have jackets, at the very least. But... they gave me the number one... so that’s pretty touching.”</p>
<p>“I always would’ve pictured Leif getting number one, and Tobin getting number two.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know what Leif has, but Tobin’s number 6, and knowing him, it’s a lucky number.”</p>
<p>“True. Okay, so... you’re at least going to tell your family about your birthday?”</p>
<p>“Oh, shit... I fully forgot that that was a thing,” Zoey said. “Shit... when even is it?”</p>
<p>“It’s March 18th,” Max supplied quietly. He opened his mouth to say more, but their food arrived, and they both immediately dug in.</p>
<p>“Okay, we’re coming back here, this is incredible,” Zoey said, taking in a big mouthful of egg noodles and all the other mouthwatering flavours. It was probably partially this good because she was half starved, but <em>god</em>, it was delicious.</p>
<p>“True... but... you forgot your birthday existed? Zoey... you do have to take care of yourself?”</p>
<p>“And you think I’m not? I’m taking care of myself, I’ve just been so overwhelmed with everything else that I haven’t really given much thought to my birthday.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t your dad say something one time about how you guys had decided that you were going to have a 27 Club themed birthday?”</p>
<p>“Yeah... but... I don’t know if I want that.”</p>
<p>“He would’ve wanted you to do that... I think it’d be a pretty big bummer if you didn’t.”</p>
<p>“I just... I don’t know. I don’t know how to do it without him. It just feels... wrong, when he’s not here,” Zoey confessed.</p>
<p>“I understand, Zoey. But... you know that he would’ve wanted this, right?”</p>
<p>“I know... I just don’t know how to do it.”</p>
<p>“So let me help you,” Max said, reaching out and grabbing her hand from across the table, and giving it a comforting squeeze. “And whenever you need a shoulder to cry on- which, by the way, I’m fairly suspicious of the fact that you haven’t requested such a thing yet- I’m yours.”</p>
<p>Oh lord. He played the I’m Yours card.</p>
<p>“I don’t deserve you,” Zoey said softly, looking down into her bowl. “But... I’m not... I’m not.”</p>
<p>“You’re not... what?”</p>
<p>“I can’t do a romantic relationship right now, Max... and frankly... I don’t even know if I’m ready to discuss what happened. I just... I’m in too overwhelming of a situation to do romance, right now. Okay?”</p>
<p>“I promised you this would go at your pace, and if that is the pace you want, I completely understand. You have the right to make your own decisions for your own wellbeing, and I’m not mad. I promise... I’m not going to be mad over what you choose anymore.”</p>
<p>“Really? That... that means a lot to me, Max.”</p>
<p>“It’s the bare minimum of what I can do... if a romance is too much for you right now... then so be it. I’d be a pretty shitty person if I forced you into something out of anger.”</p>
<p>“Thank you so much, Max. It means more to me than you know, seriously.”</p>
<p>“The bottom line is that I want you to be happy. And you being happy is all <em>I<em> need to be happy. So do whatever you want.”</em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You know what I want to do, right now?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“What?”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Inhale this fucking soup, that’s what! It’s amazing, Max... I would pay a million dollars for this.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Okay, I have to try some, then.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>The act of Zoey taking a spoonful of Max’s food and Max taking a spoonful of Zoey’s food was natural, and it’d happened plenty of times before... she just now realised how romantic that seemed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It was weird, the things you notice after you’re involved in a will they, won’t they relationship with your best friend that could easily turn into a romance if Zoey wasn’t careful</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>As one does.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Thank you, Max. Seriously, I... I could never thank you enough. You’re always there when I need you most... I think.”</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>She thought back to how nobody had visited her in the hospital- not that that was anyone’s fault. Her mom hadn’t answered a number that she didn’t know, the end. That was all. And thus, nobody knew that she had almost drowned, except for her.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>And she felt so strongly that she didn’t deserve to be cared ablution, to be comforted and loved and her back rubbed lovingly that she wouldn’t tell even anyone after the fact. Another thing, she didn’t want her mom to feel guilty about not coming when her daughter had almost drowned. Even if it’d been pretty awful... it wasn’t her mom’s fault, and so she didn’t want her to feel that way.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Better to just remain it unknown than worry anyone or make anyone guilty besides herself.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“You think?” Max laughed. “Gee, that’s high praise, Zoey.” It broke her out of her train of self destructive thought. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>So, her train of thought was off the rails, flying though the air, burning up on re-entry into the atmosphere, actually, on a fast, devastating course right towards her mental health.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Some of the cars had already hit their target, and if that had sent her reeling... the locomotive was sure to make it even worse, if not detonated it all completely. It was pretty bad that it was loaded up with TNT.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Zoey was pretty scared for what would happen when the rest of the train made it to it’s destination.</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if i hadn’t drilled it into your head yet, my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Fifteenth Day (And A Bit Of Opening Up, Followed By Closing Up Even Tighter)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey cries to someone, lies to someone, and eats with someone, in that order.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>to chosenandloved, audrey, and zoe - this is the chapter ive been warning yall abt. im very sorry. </p><p>heart songs in this chapter:</p><p><b>where are ü now</b> by pentatonix. is it the original? no. but it’s the FAR superior version. </p><p>emetophobia warning for this chapter, stop when max says “let’s talk inside” and pick back up where he says “don’t drink that all too fast”</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Honey, you don’t <em>have</em> to come over every day... you look so tired and pale,” Her mother worried, placing her hands over Zoey’s.</p><p>“I just get worried about you... in here alone.”</p><p>“I’m not alone. I have plants, and Deb comes over, and other people... but you come over almost every day. You can go have an evening to yourself, one of these days.”</p><p>Zoey shook her head, going back to the laundry that she was folding. “I get worried about you... and I want to help.”</p><p>“But you need to help yourself... go out for a night, maybe? Go with one of your friends- Max, maybe, but it can be any of them- and go out and have fun for a night, okay?”</p><p>“But I’m just fine here,” Zoey protested. “We still have to binge the rest of Dead To Me so we can get to Season Two, okay?”</p><p>“Right now, you’re folding my laundry- which is sweet of you, Zoey, but seriously-“</p><p>“I’m not sure I’d rather be anywhere else in the world, Mom. I love you and I don’t want you to be alone.”</p><p>“But I can handle being alone for a bit, Zoey. You don’t have to keep me company every moment you’re not at work or sleeping.”</p><p>“I left you alone for three days, and I came back and you were all stressed!”</p><p>“Yeah, because you didn’t let me take care of you while you were sick, and I understand that you couldn’t text me, but that worries me! There’s a difference between being overbearing and being AWOL, Zoey!”</p><p>Zoey picked up the basket of laundry, now with all the contents folded, and headed around the corner and up the stairs. Her mom followed close behind. </p><p>“Zoey... I don’t want you to have to take care of me. I can take care of myself occasionally... it just rubs off like you don’t trust me, and I know that that isn’t true, but-“</p><p>She stopped short at the top of the stairs.</p><p>Because Zoey had stopped short at the doorway of her parent’s room.</p><p>Zoey hadn’t been in her parent’s room since before her dad had died, and this... she couldn’t handle this.</p><p>She’d dropped the basket of laundry, and it’d landed primly, right side up by her feet.</p><p>Her father was <em>all over</em> this room.</p><p>It was his reading glasses on the nightstand, on the side of the bed where he’d slept for thirty years. </p><p>The covers that he and her mom had picked out were nearly made on the bed, and his things were all over his dresser. Their parents each had a dresser, and the top of his had always been littered with objects.</p><p>Zoey felt like she floated over to the nightstand, brushing a hand across a picture of him and his mom, back when they’d just gotten engaged, the happiness screaming from the picture as she stared at it, happiness frozen, locked in a moment that she couldn’t find.</p><p>There was his deodorant, some keepsakes, like the wooden star that Zoey had whittled for him in Girl Scouts (and gotten in trouble with the troop leader for, with all the blood on her hands by the time she was done.) There was the birthday card that David and Zoey had made for him, when Zoey was three and David five. It was encrusted in glitter and scribbly drawings vaguely resembling their family. She vaguely remembered how David yelled at her for all the glitter she dumped onto it.</p><p>He’d kept it, all these years later.</p><p>The macaroni necklace, the five page essay David had done on someone he admired, that he’d done on Dad, the drawings, the paintings, a picture of Zoey, tears streaming down her face as she clutched a letter close to her chest, her eyes lit up with energy. The letter had been her acceptance letter into Carnegie Mellon- with a huge scholarship, no less.</p><p>He’d kept it all, and he was <em>just</em> here! He was just here, not too long ago he’d probably stared at the objects. He’d worn the necklaces that David and Zoey had made him, read the things they wrote, looked at the things they’d made, and he’d kept it all! </p><p>Zoey <em>howled</em>, collapsing to her knees, hand clutched probably too tight around the stupid, stupid macaroni necklace, letting out a couple huge sobs.</p><p>“Oh... Zoey, dear...” she heard her mom say, which felt like a very far away place from where Zoey was. </p><p>She heard her mother’s footsteps, gentle on the carpet, and saw out of the corner of her eye her mother kneeling down on the ground next to her, and felt her slowly draw her arms around her daughter.</p><p>Zoey pushed her away, throwing the necklace to the ground as she stood up and stepped back, chest heaving with even more sobs.</p><p>“Zoey,” her mother whispered, staring up at her.</p><p>Zoey just folded in on herself, still standing, arms wrapping around her waist and tucking her chin into her chest as she sobbed.</p><p>Her mother stood up, and gently hugged Zoey, drawing her into her welcoming arms. This time, Zoey didn’t reject her embrace, leaning into her mother, resting her head on her mom’s chest and clutching her mother with an embrace, like if she let go, she’d go away.</p><p>Zoey, for the first in a long time, let a family member comfort her while she cried, crying into her mother’s shirt while her mother stroked her hair and whispered that it would be okay. </p><p>Zoey felt horrible, and after eating actual food, and a lot of it, with her mom, she started to feel nauseous as she sobbed.</p><p>Finally, her tears dried, and she stepped back, out of her mother’s embrace.</p><p>“I come over every day... because I <em>need</em> you... and you need me.”</p><p>It was too bad that Zoey planned for this to be the last time her mom comforted her.</p><p>Her mom, tear tracks drying on her own face, nodded. “I still think you shouldn’t be over here every day... but...”</p><p>“Let me help you,” Zoey insisted. </p><p>Her mom nodded.</p><p>Zoey slowly stepped down and picked up the previously discarded basket of laundry.</p><p>_______________________</p><p>Movie night with Max was on for that night, right after Zoey left her mom’s house. (It wasn’t even her <em>parent’s</em> house anymore... it was just her mom.) Zoey left at eight, after her mom had gone to bed early, and walked home quietly, ignoring the rising bile in her throat.</p><p>As she walked up the stairs, she heard the sounds of Mariah Carey’s <em>Emotions</em>, and Max and Mo’s conversation. Zoey stepped into the threshold, seeing Mo and Max having a cup of something together and chatting energetically.</p><p>“Do my eyes deceive me, or did Zoey Regina Clarke actually come home?” Mo asked, setting down her glass. </p><p>“You don’t have to treat it like it’s an amazing thing... I come home, like a normal person.”</p><p>Mo laughed. “She wasn’t here from Sunday to Wednesday, and then when she finally comes home, she acts aaalll suspicious and doesn’t tell me where she was. Pretty sure she’s a CIA agent now.”</p><p>“And I told you to drop it!” Zoey said indignantly. </p><p>Max looked... confused. And hurt. And worried. </p><p>“Oh, she didn’t tell you she was gone for three days? Well, I believe it’s Movie Night O’Clock. As much as I’d like to meddle, I’m taking it upon myself not to get involved in your lover’s quarrel. Toodle-ooh!” Mo basically pushed Max out of his apartment and shut the door.</p><p>“Max... I...”</p><p>“Let’s talk inside,” Max said quietly.</p><p>Zoey’s stomach went up to her throat, and the thought of confrontation made her already bad nausea start to knock on heaven’s door even harder.</p><p>She unlocked the door, and then rushed to the bathroom, emptying the last bit of the green bean casserole Mrs. Delaney had brought over out of her stomach.</p><p>It’d tasted like cat food, anyway.</p><p>Max rushed to follow her, and held back her hair as she heaved once, twice, three times, a greenish brownish pile of vomit now in her toilet.</p><p>Zoey spat into the toilet and sat back on the bathroom floor, tears in her eyes.</p><p>“Hey, it’s okay,” Max said, rubbing her back.</p><p>Zoey shook her head, hard- and then leaned back over and threw up again.</p><p>Max held her hair back and rubbed her back, nice and firm, but not too firm, and not too soft to just make her shirt chafe her.</p><p>After one last heave, she sat back again, tears now streaming slowly down her cheeks, both tears from throwing up and tears from the fact that Max was probably mad at her.</p><p>But Max just got her a glass of water, and an empty glass to spit water out into after swishing it around her mouth, without having to get up and go to the sink.</p><p>He was sweet that way.</p><p>Zoey spat out the dirty water in the empty glass, and Max handed her the one with the clean water, letting her sip on it slowly while he dumped out the dirty water into the sink, and slowly shut the toilet and flushed it all away.</p><p>Max sat next to her, cross legged, on the stupid tile floor, while Zoey stared at the dirty tiles and dipped the water slowly.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“I just... ate something that didn’t sit well with me,” Zoey rasped, taking another gulp of the water.</p><p>“Don’t drink that all too fast,” Max warned. “Look... I hate to ask you this, because you just threw up, but I have to know, wh-“</p><p>“I got drunk,” Zoey blurted out, regretting the words instantly.</p><p>They were a flat out lie. But Max didn’t know that.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I... I got drunk after the SPRQ Point cruise, dropped my phone and watch into the bay, got drunk off my ass, and then didn’t come home until Wednesday.” This goddamn lie... it made guilt boil up in her throat, threatening to make her throw up again.</p><p>But Max bought it. “You... you didn’t take any drugs, did yo-“</p><p>“No!” Zoey cried. “I got drunk, and then I got drunk again... and I didn’t come home for a few days. I didn’t want my mom to know... or my employer. Or anyone. Because it was a stupid, shitty thing to do, and I regret it.”</p><p>“You’re not... you’re not an alcoholic... right?”</p><p>“Of course not... I just had a really bad couple of days.”</p><p>“You could’ve told me, Zoey... I would’ve gone and brought you home and taken care of you.”</p><p>“But I couldn’t... I didn’t want to tell anyone. Because I knew it was wrong at the time and I knew it was wrong after.”</p><p>“Okay... well... next time, tell me if you’re getting drunk, so I can reign you in if I need to?”</p><p>Zoey nodded.</p><p>“Okay... thank you for your honesty.”</p><p>Zoey swallowed down the horrible, sickly feeling guilt in her body. She felt <em>terrible</em>, and it wasn’t that the truth was bad... she was more scared of what telling the truth would mean.</p><p>People being sympathetic. Taking care of her.</p><p>She was too afraid of sympathy and love to just.... just tell the truth. Which was way better than the lie that she’d gotten drunk, but worse than the lie that she was sick.</p><p>And yet... she changed her thoughts to remember that she’d told a second lie, before this one.</p><p>“I told everyone that I was sick those three days... so... don’t tell anyone, okay? I’m ashamed... a lot.”</p><p>Max put a comforting hand on her knee. “Okay, Zoey... your secret’s safe with me. And next time... you can know that you can tell the truth, and I won’t judge.”</p><p>“Thank you, Max,” Zoey breathed.</p><p>“Now... if you’re feeling okay, I was thinking of watching something a bit more feel-good... how about a viewing of a Star Wars movie?”</p><p>“Only if it’s The Empire Strikes back, and then Revenge of the Sith.”</p><p>“God, I can’t believe you love Revenge of the Sith as much as you do.”</p><p>“It’s a good movie,” Zoey said softly, her tone not matching the playful argument of her words.</p><p>Max helped her up, and in a move that was becoming normal, her vision was blotted out with black dots for a few moments after standing, but she by now had learned to work through it and soldier on.</p><p>Max didn’t make popcorn, which was sweet, because he knew the smell would probably upset her stomach. Instead, he just got them both sodas, and popped into the DVD player The Empire Strikes Back.</p><p>Zoey leaned back against the couch and sighed quietly, unheard by anyone but herself.</p><p>The movie started, but Zoey could barely pay any attention.</p><p>She felt awful and feverish (awesome, she needed being <em>actually</em> sick like she needed a hole in her wrists), but part of it could undoubtedly be attributed to the fact that she’d just made an awful, awful lie, and the truth wasn’t even that bad.</p><p>She was in too deep.</p><p>Zoey was so desperate for love, she was pushing it away, it seemed.</p><p>__________________</p><p>Simon brought her lunch at work.</p><p>Zoey had been buried deep in work, sitting on a swing chair with her laptop, when out of nowhere, she’d smelled something delicious and seen two feet walk up and stop on her, and she looked up to see Simon standing there with a box of takeout.</p><p>“I might’ve gotten you sushi takeout? I went there for myself, and they were having buy one, get one free on rolls, so... I got you some sushi. Since I know you probably wouldn’t have eaten otherwise,” Simon said, smiling.</p><p>Zoey smiled up at him, setting her laptop down on the floor next to her. “Thank you, Simon... that means a lot.”</p><p>And it did. He cared about her enough to bring her lunch, and yet... she couldn’t give him what he wanted.</p><p>He wanted a romantic relationship.</p><p>Max wanted a romantic relationship, too. And she couldn’t give him that, either.</p><p>The word <em>polyamorous</em> was still bouncing around at the back of her mind, but right now, she knew that she’d made the right decision by choosing not to get involved in <em>any</em> romantic relationships right now.</p><p>She needed to heal, and she’d made a decision that was best for her, and Max, and Simon. It wasn’t like she could be a very good girlfriend to either of them right now, even if she didn’t have to choose.</p><p>Besides... would Max and Simon understand? They might- <em>probably</em> would be jealous of each other, even if Zoey split her time equally- and besides, she’d have to dedicate a <em>lot</em> of time to <em>both</em> relationships, and she didn’t have that in her right now. Not when she was going to her mom’s house every day after work, not when she cried herself to sleep too many nights.</p><p>Zoey had fallen apart in front of her mother, and she feared she’d fall apart worse in one way or another, if she started a romantic relationship with anyone, either of them. </p><p>That didn’t mean she didn’t crave for someone to kiss her. They both had very soft lips, but Simon kissed more firmly, knowingly, and Max was softer, more chaste. She wanted to kiss both of them, kiss them good and hard, and have them comfort her like they’d never comforted anyone before.</p><p>But she knew she couldn’t do that to herself or either of them right now.</p><p>But Simon, probably to keep an eye on her and make sure she ate all of her food, sat down on the swing opposite her.</p><p>Zoey sat up and tucked her legs in, criss cross applesauce, and dig into the sushi with the chopsticks and little disposable cup full of soy sauce inside the takeout box.</p><p>It was really, really good sushi, made even better by the fact that Simon didn’t try and make conversation for Zoey to struggle to keep up, just sat next to her, his presence comforting enough.</p><p>And then Zoey just got hit with a wave of <em>longing</em>.</p><p>Not for Simon, and not for Max.</p><p>For her dad, who’d visited SPRQ Point once, on her third day, and he’d looked around, thought it was a very cool office, and then decided to push Zoey in the little swing they had. It was after hours, they were the only ones left besides Max, and Max had just watched amusedly as her dad had pushed her in the swing, soaring her higher and higher and higher, so high she thought she could launch through the ceiling and land on the moon.</p><p>Things were so much simpler, so much <em>better</em>.</p><p>After he’d gotten diagnosed, Zoey had avoided her parent’s house for awhile, unable to wrap her mind around the fact that her dad would be <em>dead</em> in a few years. Her dad had shown up at her apartment, armed with Chinese takeout, a soft look on his face.</p><p>They’d eaten on the floor, ignoring the very obvious couch that was right there, Zoey completely silent, and her father, the same, as he slurped his noodles.</p><p>Finally, as they were scraping the bottoms of their containers, he set his down, took her hands, and promised Zoey that no matter what happened, even after he died... he would still be there for her, one way or another.</p><p>And Zoey had slotted her head under his arm and <em>sobbed</em>, knowing that at some point, her father would no longer hug her, and then, he would be dead. </p><p>That he wouldn’t be able to say that he loved her.</p><p>And after awhile... he couldn’t. </p><p>And that kind of heartbreak was <em>inexplicable</em>. And she wanted him <em>back</em>, right here, right now, to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright.</p><p>Where was he?! He’d said to her that all she had to do was <em>listen</em>, and he’d be there. He’d said he’d be there one way or another even after he was gone.</p><p>So where <em>was</em> he?!</p><p>Zoey broke into song, and she knew that, unlike the last time she’d sung at her job, that this was all in her head.</p><p>A daydream.</p><p>In her daydream, she melted to the floor out of her seat, and rolled around on the floor as she sung.</p><p>
  <em>I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you the most</em>
</p><p>In her daydream, she sung a capella backup, no backup singers or dancers accompanying her.</p><p>It was just Zoey.</p><p>
  <em> I gave you the key when the door wasn't open</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just admit it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>See, I gave you faith, turned your doubt into hoping, can't deny it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now I'm all alone and my joys turned to moping</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tell me here, where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Couldn't find you anywhere</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When you broke down I didn't leave you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was by your side</em>
</p><p>Zoey hadn’t been by his side initially, but slowly, she’d started visiting more and more, probably far more than was normal for a 20-something adult child, and in his final months, weeks, and days, she was there.</p><p>
  <em> So where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I gave you attention when nobody else was payin', hm</em>
</p><p>In her daydream, she rushed to the swing, swinging herself higher and higher and higher, but her desperate legs could <em>never</em> reach as high as her dad could’ve pushed her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I gave you the shirt off my back, what’re you saying</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To keep you warm</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I showed you the game everybody else was playin', that's for sure</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I was on my knees when nobody else was prayin', oh Lord</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>He would’ve pushed her to be better, to be stronger, to be wiser... he would’ve been there when she got married and had kids if not for some stupid, <em>stupid</em> disease!</p><p>She swung her legs desperately, trying to reach the kind of altitude he would’ve propelled her to, and failing so, <em>so</em> badly.</p><p>
  <em> Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you, I need you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you the most</em>
</p><p>Zoey jumped off the swing, even as high up as she was. She landed squarely on her feet, and rushed up and down the wooden stairs twice, finally landing back in the swing chairs, spinning herself around as she sang, her thoughts spinning just as fast as the world whirled.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where are you now that I need you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you the most</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you the most</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you the most</em>
</p><p>Zoey picked her food back up, and looked at Simon.</p><p>“How’s your mom?”</p><p>Now she could be positive, he hadn’t heard.</p><p>It had all been in her head, just like most other numbers.</p><p>This one, though, was a daydream. Just a daydream. That was all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>with every chapter my life grows more in danger. send me (hopefully joking) death threats @team-zoey-has-two-hands. or in the comments... comments give me serotonin.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Sixteenth Day (And Some Lies, Some Singing, And Some Negotiations)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey meets her new boss, and has another lunchtime conversation with Simon.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heartsong in this chapter is:</p><p><b>would i lie to you</b> by eurythmics.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey was sobbing into a pillow, curled up in a little ball and letting it all out, nobody around to see.</p><p>She’d just had another nightmare about falling off the boat, where her dad had jeered at her, he’d trained her to hold on and now what, she was drowning?</p><p>Zoey had woken up with a gasp, tears had filled her eyes, and now she was here, stifling her sobs in a pillow, so nobody could hear.</p><p>It was the perfect metaphor for what she’d been doing for <em>awhile</em> now.</p><p>If Simon had been depressed after his dad had died... Zoey was probably doing even worse, right this very instant.</p><p>Not that his depression wasn’t any less valid. It was just... she felt so <em>low</em> and <em>tired</em>.</p><p>It felt like she was still underwater, her head far under and her heart already drowned out.</p><p>She couldn’t see to the surface, didn’t know if it was even there, or if her life was just an endless abyss of cold, dark water.</p><p>Fuck, she could barely breathe under here.</p><p>So what did she do?</p><p>Zoey went to the bathroom, and threw up. On purpose. Just for the heck of it. Was it healthy? Of course not. But did it feel good, once it was over?</p><p>Very much so.</p><p>Zoey returned to her bed, turning on her bedroom light as she came back in. She grabbed her laptop, plugged in at the side of the bed, and logged onto her work account.</p><p>So she worked, all the way until her alarm went off and she had to get up, go through the motions, shower, ignore breakfast, get dressed, and get to work.</p><p>Zoey wore her Brogrammers jacket again, since it was unbearably windy and frigid outside, along with a blue button down, no sweater on top, just a baby blue button down with little white pearly buttons, sleeves cuffed at three quarters down her arms. It was long, going all the way down over her butt, so a and a pair of black leggings with red flats worked nicely with it all. A pearl necklace that her dad had given her for her eighteenth birthday completed the ensemble, her hair up in a high ponytail, secured with a hair tie and also a baby blue ribbon.</p><p>She was feeling horrible, so why not dress snazzy?</p><p>Mo stepped out of his apartment as Zoey was outside hers and locking the door. Mo was in one of his big, bright caftans, and he was brushing his teeth as he studied Zoey.</p><p>“Am I dreaming, or are you actually wearing a good outfit? Other than the jacket. That’s bland. But the rest of it... I am <em>feeling</em> it, child.”</p><p>“And my other outfits were stupid?”</p><p>“They were just so <em>routine</em>, Zoey, the same sweater with the button down collar pulled outside. Cute and all, but it gets boring. Now <em>this</em>.... this is <em>something</em>.”</p><p>“Thanks, Mo.”</p><p>“So, what happened with Maxie? I eavesdropped to figure out where you were those three days, but all I heard was a bit of cookie tossing.”</p><p>“Yeah, I ate something that didn’t sit right. And for the record, where I was is none of your business, I don’t think I’m ever gonna tell you.”</p><p>“What happened to me being the one who you told about your superpower first, Zo-Bo? Like, I get it, I’m not going to tell <em>you</em> where I was when I was AWOL for two days back in February. But I am a nosy creature, Zoey!”</p><p>“Trust me, it’s not even that interesting,” Zoey said, finally getting the finicky lock to click into place. She turned to Mo, a rueful smile on her face.</p><p>“Yeah, whenever someone says that something wasn’t even that interesting when they won’t tell someone something, it must have been <em>very</em> interesting.”</p><p>“Gotta go, Mo, time’s a-wasting!”</p><p>“It’s six in the morning, don’t you work nine to five?”</p><p>“Yeah... I’m getting a head start.”</p><p>Mo shook his head. “You’re such a <em>nerd</em>, Zoey Clarke.”</p><p>Zoey took the long way to work, and ended up getting <em>several</em> compliments on her outfit from businessmen... and a couple of girls, too. Which would be fine, she was bi and all, if she wasn’t currently in a love triangle.</p><p>And also, because she dressed up a <em>tiny</em> bit <em>one</em> day, and suddenly people start noticing her?</p><p>She was at work before anyone else arrived, getting straight to work in the meantime. At seven, the elevator doors opened.</p><p>Zoey thought that it was probably just some janitors, until she hears heels clicking, and she looked up.</p><p>It was a woman, tall, with fair skin, stupidly long blonde hair that was in a braid all the way down her back and brushing the back of her knees as she walked. She had huge gold wire frame circular glasses, and wore yoga pants and a fancy shirt, with black pumps on her feet.</p><p>She caught Zoey’s eye. “Oh, you must be Zoey Clarke!” The woman exclaimed, turning in her direction.</p><p>“Yep... that’s me. How can I help you?” Zoey asked, turning her chair a bit to face the woman as she walked over and stood at one end of her desk.</p><p>“I’m Charlie, I’m the new floor boss.”</p><p>“Oh, really? I didn’t know Joan had already hired someone,” Zoey exclaimed, standing up to shake her hand. Charlie had a nice, firm handshake, and a warm smile, though it was heavily lipsticked with a dark red shade.</p><p>“I understand that you were, briefly, the floor boss around here?”</p><p>“Yeah... I was doing two jobs at once, and decided I’d rather stay where I am than advance and then go right back.”</p><p>“Of course. I understand that this is temporary, but it’ll help me get my name out there, and give me more experience. I’ve been working in the industry a long time, but this seems to finally be what’ll make my name known. I’ve been working at Bing for awhile, and that’s not exactly a great way to get my name out, I know.”</p><p>“Well, there’s no huge glory in being the floor boss, other than bossing around a bunch of nerdy men, and, like, four women.”</p><p>“Well, I hope you’ll help me do some of the bossing around, Zoey. Joan respects you a lot, and I trust that you are and will continue to be a very good team leader for the programmers.”</p><p>“Of course. That’s why I’m here so early!”</p><p>“Earliness, that’s great! Love the dedication.”</p><p>“Glad you think so. Your office is that big, clear egg thing... good luck.”</p><p>“Oh, geez, Joan wasn’t kidding about the transparency,” Charlie groaned kiddingly. “Well, keep it up! I’ll be briefing everyone at nine thirty, of course, and I hope you’ll back me up if I say something stupidly crazy.”</p><p>“Of course,” Zoey smiled.</p><p>Joan’s new hire seemed to be a pretty good pick. She was warm, cheerful, and for just a second, Zoey wasn’t incessantly thinking about how horrible she felt.</p><p>Charlie got set up in her office and Zoey got back to work, stomach growling angrily at her as people slowly began to trickle in, Charlie waving at everyone as they came in from her office. It would be weird having someone in the office after it’d been vacant for so long, and it not being Joan, but Zoey would adjust. At least <em>she</em> wasn’t in charge.</p><p>Finally, at nine thirty, after everyone had settled into work while giving Charlie a wary look, Charlie rallied everyone at the wooden stairs, sitting them all down so she could speak. And by everyone, it was <em>everyone</em>. A big chunk of Marketing was up here, and so it wasn’t just programmers, it was the marketers, including Simon, who smiled at her lopsidedly from across the stairs. </p><p>After everyone was seated (Zoey, of course, right at the bottom stair), Charlie began to speak.</p><p>“Okay, so, as you’ve probably gathered, I’m the new floor boss! Zoey, I’m sure, was great, but she’s no longer your boss for reasons I very much respect, and now I’m here! So let me tell you how I plan on running my floor.”</p><p>Simon caught her eye again, and Zoey gave him a look that simply kinda just said ‘hi’ from across the way.</p><p>“I plan on getting every last shred of potential that you have locked inside you out in the open, and poured into your work. You all have so much potential that I know isn’t quite all put into your work, and so I’m going to milk it all out like SPRQ cows. This is a great company, and I want to move it to it’s furthest potential. So, I’ll be milking my own potential to be a good boss. Every idea will be listened to, every shred of creativity will matter. I want you all to be the best versions of yourselves, okay?”</p><p>A slow clap began from Zoey, and Simon was the next to join in. Slowly, the stairs exploded into applause.</p><p>Charlie grinned and took a little, quirky bow, and then held out her arms like she was belting out a high note in a Broadway show.</p><p>“Now get back to work, losers!” She called, jokingly.</p><p>Everyone got up and went back to work.</p><p>Zoey was pretty satisfied with Charlie. She had laid all her cards out on the table, and she seemed to have a great plan and initiative. Zoey trusted her completely.</p><p>Until she heard music begin. She looked around the bullpen, searching for whoever it would be singing this time.</p><p>But it wasn’t anyone in the bullpen.</p><p>It was Charlie, still unpacking and settling into her office.</p><p>
  <em>Would I lie to you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would I lie to you, honey?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now would I say something that wasn't true?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm asking you sugar</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would I lie to you?</em>
</p><p>At first, Zoey thought that maybe Charlie was having relationship problems. That was a common theme of heart songs, and she was prepared to help Charlie’s love life- until she stepped closer, and saw Charlie pick up a compact mirror- and sing into it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> My friends - know what's in store.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I won't be here anymore.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I've packed my bags</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I've cleaned the floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Watch me walkin'.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Walkin' out the door.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Believe me - I'll make it, make it</em>
</p><p>Charlie was singing, dancing around sensually, and looking at <em>herself</em>.</p><p>She was singing about herself!</p><p>
  <em> Tell you straight - no intervention.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To your face - no deception.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're the biggest fake.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That much is true.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Had all I can take!</em>
</p><p>The song ended suddenly, Charlie blowing her reflection a kiss before shutting the compact with a <em>snap</em>, and then returning to unpacking.</p><p>Zoey was stunned. Charlie had seemed so <em>genuine</em>, how could she be... fake? She was direct, smart, and sharp, and yet, she was singing a song about how she was totally and completely fake.</p><p>No... surely she’d gotten it wrong. Surely, Charlie was just singing it to herself about leaving a romantic partner who had lied to her?</p><p>But her gut knew that to be untrue. Charlie was singing to <em>herself</em>, smiling as she sang about how <em>fake</em> she was. So she must be full of herself too.</p><p>All of this... it made Zoey begin to wonder.</p><p>Was it... could it be associated with whatever Ava was planning? Or would Charlie become associated with Ava eventually? Or was Charlie angling for the glory herself?</p><p>Zoey <em>really</em> didn’t need all this work drama in her life, she was already overwhelmed enough.</p><p>But here she was, a Holly Frye lookalike with longer hair having sung to herself about how fake she was, and now, the universe expected Zoey to deal with it.</p><p>She decided to tell the universe, in one way or another, to shove it for right now. Because this was entirely too much for her right now.</p><p>Zoey sighed and got back to work.</p><p>____________________</p><p>Simon personally paraded Zoey over to the bread bar at noon sharp, making sure she got plenty to eat before sitting down to eat with her on their usual swing chairs.</p><p>“So, what do you think of Charlie?” Simon asked. “She seems pretty nice to me.”</p><p>Zoey decided to be semi honest. “I dunno... I think... there’s something off about her. I’m... cautiously optimistic that I’m wrong, but...”</p><p>“Well, what exactly seems off about her?” Simon asked, taking a bite of baguette.</p><p>“I don’t know... she just... seems a bit full of herself, you know? And also, a bit fake. I hope I’m wrong, because more work drama is the <em>last</em> thing I need, but... who knows?”</p><p>“Yeah, I get that. She does seem to really love her hair.”</p><p>“Okay, I mean... who wouldn’t really love hair that nice? I would probably be mildly obsessed with myself if I had hair like that.”</p><p>“Point taken. Honestly, I probably won’t see much of her, and of course, nobody’s ever seen much of her as of yet, but... I trust you’ll keep an eye on her. And if she’s untrustworthy... stage a coup? I’ll bring the guns.”</p><p>“Guns, as in...?”</p><p>Simon jokingly flexed his biceps, without even taking off his light blue sweater, and kissed his arm. Zoey giggled a little.</p><p>“Okay, but, Charlie aside... you look really nice today.”</p><p>“Okay, I ditch the sweaters and sneakers for <em>one</em> day, and I get a million compliments on it... but at least I wore it on the same day as my new boss comes in, because good impressions are good.”</p><p>“It’s not a wonder why you got so many compliments- not because you dress badly every other day, but it is really nice.”</p><p>“Thanks... although I <em>really</em> don’t feel deserving of the compliments. It’s just a shirt and pants?”</p><p>“Okay, but... low self esteem. It happens after your dad dies. Did it happen to you?”</p><p>“Nope!” Zoey said, a bit too rushed and enthusiastic (though, falsely so). </p><p>Simon raised an eyebrow. “Wanna try that again?”</p><p>“Actually, no, I would not like to try that again. I’m good, thanks.”</p><p>“Zoey.... I’m really trying to help you out here. And it feels like... like nothing I say gets through to you,” Simon said, softer and more serious than before.</p><p>“I... maybe it’s just not that deep. At least... not right now. Or... I’m still trying to deal on my own.”</p><p>“You’re full of excuses as to why you shouldn’t be helped... it’s like you’re scared of it or something.”</p><p>Zoey barely suppressed the urge to laugh awkwardly, that wouldn’t help her case at all.</p><p>“I’m <em>not</em>, Simon... I’m dealing with this in my own way. And when I need to cry on someone... I’ll probably cry on you. Althoughhh... I did cry on my mom.” There. That would get him off her case.</p><p>“Oh? What happened?”</p><p>“I went into my parent’s room for the first time since before my dad died, and he has- had- all these mementos and keepsakes on his dresser top, and I saw them, and I kinda... fell apart? So I ended up crying on my mom.”</p><p>“Wow, that’s... that’s probably upsetting, but I’m... don’t take this to mean that I’m a complete weirdo, but... I’m glad you cried, especially on someone else. It doesn’t have to be me, just someone, and you cried on someone. So.... uhh.... gold star! I don’t know how to phrase that in a good way, as you can tell.”</p><p><em>Now,</em> Zoey laughed awkwardly. “No, I get it. It was... a nice bonding moment for us... I guess. Bonding over the fact that my dad and her husband is dead.”</p><p>“How much have you been seeing of your mom, by the way?” Simon asked.</p><p>“Well... pretty much every afternoon, I go over there?”</p><p>Simon clicked his tongue. “<em>Zoey,</em>” he began, in an almost chastising tone.</p><p>“Don’t! I’m worried about her being all alone... and just because I’m hurting doesn’t mean I can’t help anyone.”</p><p>“Okay, but... that’s a lot of mom to see.”</p><p>“Okay, but my mom is the best,” Zoey countered.</p><p>“Your mom is pretty great... but do you really need to be there that often? That can’t be particularly healthy.”</p><p>“If a loving relationship with my mother is a crime, then lock me up. Because she’s great, I love her, and I want to be there for her. She needs me... and I need her.”</p><p>“Okay... but... have you ever considered using your afternoons for something constructive for your mental health, and not for seeing your mom?”</p><p>“Seeing my mom isn’t constructive to my mental health?”</p><p>“Now, I’m not saying that seeing your mom is wrong. Far from it. I just think you’re seeing a little <em>too</em> much of her... and I think that you should join a support group.”</p><p>“So I can meet the lady who killed my husband in a hit and run and get sucked into a world of crime, deception, murder, and money laundering?”</p><p>“What’re you talking about?” Simon asked, confused. </p><p>“Ugh, you have to watch Dead To Me. But anyway... I don’t think if I’m a very good candidate to join a support group. In case you haven’t noticed, I stink at opening up, and I like it that way. Gives me a way to to think over my feelings on my own and chew my cud. I’m good at dealing with it myself... I would stink at opening up to strangers</p><p>“Still... I think it would be good for you. It’d be even more people who know what you’re going through... and that is never a bad thing.”</p><p>“And you think you’re not enough? You’re great, Simon.”</p><p>“I just think a support group would be good for you.”</p><p>“Okay, only if you go to one too.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You’re a total hypocrite! I can tell that you don’t go to a support group, and yet you think I should go to one. And you still have plenty of healing to do, and more. So I’ll tell you what. I’ll find a support group, I’ll join it, but you have to go with me.”</p><p>“Okay... fine. Whatever it takes.”</p><p>“Whatever it takes,” Zoey smiled.</p><p>And late that night, after finally getting home after staying probably entirely too late at work, Zoey researched support groups in her area, stumbling upon one at Mo’s church that would meet the next day, and you didn’t have to sign up, you just came.</p><p>Zoey texted Simon the link and then got back to work.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>more substantial stuff coming Very Soon! very soon as in at Least two chapter from now, the next two aren’t Quite as substantial but necessary lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Seventeenth Day (And A Confrontation, A Peace Treaty, And A Brief Moment Of Happiness)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey goes to support group, sees an acquaintance, and eats Mexican-Chinese fusion cuisine.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heart song in this chapter is <b>i forgot that you existed</b> by taylor swift. (the entirety of lover is a bop.... it’s my fav taylor album. if you were wondering, YES, OFC, zoey’s gonna zing lover at Some point.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day after agreeing to go to support group with Simon, Zoey texted her mom that she would not be coming over this afternoon, and headed to Mo’s church, arriving 10 minutes before the grief support group was slated to begin.</p><p>Inside, the same pastor who she’d talked to before was there, sitting at the head of a circle of chairs, with about seven other people already there and four empty chairs.</p><p>“Hello, Miss Zoey Clarke? Will you be joining our Grief Support Group today?” Pastor Steve greeted, standing to shake Zoey’s hand.</p><p>Zoey shook it back firmly. “Yeah, I am. And my friend’s coming too.”</p><p>“Then I will go get you both some more chairs!” Pastor Steve said, almost giddily.</p><p>“Let me help you,” Zoey said, following him to a stack of folding chairs in a corner. She grabbed a chair from the top, and took it over to the circle. The pastor took a chair, himself, and asked everyone to stand to inaugurate the new chairs into the bunch.</p><p>He and Zoey adjusted the circle to allow for the extra two chairs, and still keep the circle shape. He thanked her, and she sat down, along with the other seven people, plus two more who’d shown up when they were moving the chairs.</p><p>A few minutes later, a figure in a big, baggy black sweatshirt, hood pulled over their face, sufficiently obscuring it, came in and sat down across from her- and then stared at her.</p><p>“...Hi?” Zoey asked, peering at the shadowy face under the hood. She could kiiiinda tell that it was a woman’s face, and her nose was very sharp- was it-</p><p>She threw her hood off, and revealed what Zoey had unfortunately already pretty much put together at this point.</p><p>It was <em>Jessica</em>.</p><p>“You...” Jessica said, her voice cold, hushed, and confrontational.</p><p>“Jessica... I... I’m sorry, I’ll go-“ Zoey said, stumbling up to her feet, almost knocking over her chair and the empty one next to her in the process.</p><p>“Ah ah, no. Wait. Zoey, you stay right here... we will work out whatever it is between you and Jessica. Right here,” the pastor said, getting to his feet and grabbing Zoey’s arm to keep her from getting away.</p><p>“Jessica... I’m so sorry,” Zoey breathed.</p><p>“Honestly? I don’t care if you’re here. Just don’t talk to me,” Jessica said bluntly.</p><p>“No, let’s go ahead and work through this. Jessica... what did Zoey do to you?”</p><p>“I’m... fairly certain that she was the other woman, and contributed to my engagement falling apart,” Jessica said coldly. “And like I said, she can stay, as long as she doesn’t talk to me.”</p><p>“Zoey?” Pastor Steve asked, turning to her.</p><p>Zoey thought back to the first time she and Simon had kissed- her lack of having eaten anything today didn’t make it any easier to think. So she decided to assume that when they’d kissed, it was <em>after</em> he and Jessica had broken up.</p><p>“Jessica... I’m so sorry. And... he... he did kiss me a couple of times. And I told him to stop, but... it happened several times. He came to my house one night, distraught and upset, and... yeah. He needed to be comforted, and because I kinda understood what he was going through- now more than before- he wanted to be comforted by me. And... yeah. I was crushing on him hard... and to be completely honest... I think he wants to be in a romantic relationship with me. But... I’m not in the headspace to have a relationship right now, and honestly, I don’t think he is either. So... yeah. I’m sorry, Jessica.”</p><p>Jessica sighed. “He really did kiss you, huh?”</p><p>“It was at least half my fault, so... yeah. Probably even more my fault.”</p><p>“Has Simon recently lost someone?” The pastor asked.</p><p>“Yeah. His dad,” Jessica supplied.</p><p>“Grief can make us do reckless, stupid things... and Zoey, you’re right not to be in a romantic relationship with him right now. Surely, his mental health and grieving contributed to you two breaking up, did it not?”</p><p>“Okay... it did... a lot. Simon cheating... it was gas thrown on a too enthusiastically burning candle. Or a torch knocked into a display of flowers.”</p><p>Zoey winced. “Sorry about that.”</p><p>“It’s whatever... I had my own issues, and he had his... cheating just added to all of it. So... I guess I forgive you? I don’t know.” Jessica shrugged.</p><p>“Ah, and you must be Simon,” the pastor said, and both women turned to see Simon walking in with a few other people. Simon was completely confused, until he saw Jessica’s face.</p><p>“Oh... hi, Jessica,” Simon mumbled.</p><p>“Yeah, he’s just gonna not talk to me,” Jessica said.</p><p>“I’d love to work through it with you two, but unfortunately, it’s time to begin! So, sit down, Simon,” the pastor said, and Simon sat down slowly next to Zoey as the other people filled the last few seats.</p><p>“Now, how about we all go around and introduce ourselves again, like we do whenever new people join us?” He asked, sitting down in his own seat. “Let’s start with you, Annie.”</p><p>Annie began. “Hi, I’m Annie Williamson, and my husband died of a heart attack.”</p><p>The man to her left went after her. “I’m Mark, and my mother and sister died in a car accident.”</p><p>They continued this way, all the way to Jessica. “I’m Jessica, and my sister lost a child. Does that sound wimpy? Even if it is, it affected me, so there.”</p><p>They continued this way until finally hitting Simon.</p><p>“I’m Simon... and my dad killed himself.”</p><p>And then, unfortunately... all eyes turned to Zoey.</p><p>“Uh, I’m Zoey Clarke... and my dad just died two weeks ago.”</p><p>After everyone was introduced, the pastor led them all in a short prayer, and then asked everyone to go around and say how their grief had effected their lives that week.</p><p>There were probably good responses, but Zoey didn’t hear them.</p><p>Because Jessica began to sing.</p><p>
  <em> How many days did I spend</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thinking about how you did me wrong, wrong, wrong?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lived in the shade you were throwing</em>
</p><p>Jessica stood up on her chair before slamming it to the ground after placing her foot and all her weight on the back of it. It came crashing down, and Jessica rushed up to Simon’s chair and gently grazed his cheek.</p><p>
  <em> ‘Til all of my sunshine was gone, gone, gone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I couldn't get away from you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In my feelings more than Drake, so yeah</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your name on my lips, tongue tied</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Free rent, livin' in my mind</em>
</p><p>Jessica dove in front of Simon, looking almost like she would kiss him as she sang the next line, getting closer and closer to his motionless lips.</p><p>
  <em> But then something happened one magical night</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I forgot that you existed</em>
</p><p>With that, Jessica hopped away from Simon, righting her chair and sitting back down in it, legs crossed primly, right over left. Everyone but Simon and Zoey crossed their legs, right over left, as well.</p><p>
  <em> And I thought that it would kill me, but it didn't</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it was so nice</em>
</p><p><em>So peaceful and quiet</em> </p><p>Jessica uncrossed her legs and spread them, placing her hands between them as she leaned forward, almost animal-like.</p><p> <em> I forgot that you existed</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>It isn't love, it isn't hate</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's just indifference</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I forgot that you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>As they rushed out of the chorus, Jessica briefly crossed her legs (left over right) before uncrossing them and standing again, and then falling to her knees before Simon.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p> <em> Got out some popcorn</em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em></em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>As soon as my rep starting going down, down, down</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em></em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Laughed on the schoolyard</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em></em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>As soon as I tripped up and hit the ground, ground, ground</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em></em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>She slowly climbed up his legs, up to his lap, and sat herself down on it, almost seductively, before slapping his face and jumping over his shoulder, off the chair. Zoey couldn’t help a small giggle from escaping.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And I would've stuck around for ya</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would've fought the whole town, so yeah</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would've been right there front row</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Even if nobody came to your show</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Jessica covered Simon’s eyes with hers from behind him, and then let go, going right back to her chair.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But you showed who you are, then one magical night</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Jessica glanced at Zoey, a gaze of anger at first, and then morphing into acceptance in less than a second.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey didn’t feel like she particularly <em>deserved</em> Jessica’s acceptance, but... it was nice to know Jessica didn’t harbor anything against her.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I forgot that you existed</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I thought that it would kill me, but it didn't</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>She crossed her legs right over left again, and, just as before, uncrossed and spread them, hands between them as she leaned over towards him, everyone but Simon and Zoey copying her actions.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And it was so nice</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So peaceful and quiet</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I forgot that you existed</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>One last time, Jessica stood and gently traced Simon’s jawline, and then pushed his face away, stealing a look at Annie from across the room.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It isn't love, it isn't hate</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's just indifference</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p><em>So yeah,</em> Jessica finished, plopping back down in her chair.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“And Zoey? On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your grief right now?” Pastor Steve asked, turning his gaze towards her.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey froze up, not sure how to answer. Hadn’t they still been on the ‘How has grief affected you this week’ question?</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Uhh... I... a lot. I don’t even know how to rate it.... I’m just... really low- not my grief, just me. In general. You know?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Pastor Steve nodded. “Sometimes, grief can be hard to interpret in such a simple way.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>He had the two people sitting between Zoey and him answer the same question, and then stood. “Okay, that’s all the time we have today. I very much hope to see you back next week, all of you.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>What.... just like that? Had Jessica’s two minute version of Taylor Swift’s <em>I Forgot That You Existed</em> really lasted <em>that</em> long? </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>What has she even said? Surely, Pastor Steve had spoken to her more than once during the whole session. She looked down at her (brand new) SPRQ Watch- and indeed, it was an hour after they started.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Everyone slowly floated away, including Simon, who said he’d see her later, and, to his credit, went up to Jessica and told her that he was sorry, for all of it.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Jessica had smiled painfully. “I... I don’t think it could’ve worked... no matter what you did with Zoey. But... it’s in the past now. Let’s move on, okay?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Simon nodded. “Again, I’m sorry.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I am too,” Jessica said softly. “We’re happier apart, though, aren’t we?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“We are. I hope... hopefully this doesn’t sound douchebag-y, but... I hope you have a good life, Jessica.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I understand, Simon... have a good life, too. She leaned in and whispered something to him, and Simon leaned away when she was done.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’m... working on it,” he said, so quietly Zoey almost didn’t hear it. She felt out of place and like an intruder, watching them like this, but... it was nice to know that they were okay.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>And then Simon had turned away, told Zoey he’d see her later, and he’d left. Zoey was about to leave, too, but Jessica grabbed her arm.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Zoey... just... I do forgive you. I swear. I don’t think Simon and I would’ve survived even without your involvement... and at least we broke up before we got married, huh? But... don’t beat yourself up on it. I’ve had a lot of time to think... and... I forgive both of you. Really, I forgave you both a long time ago. So... go get him, if you want. I’ll cheer at your wedding.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey blushed. “Like I said, I am <em>not</em> in a place to have a romantic relationship right now.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“One day, you’ll be. And... I’m glad you’re waiting... so your relationship doesn’t fall victim to the same stuff our relationship fell to.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“While I don’t particularly feel like I <em>deserve</em> your forgiveness... it’s nice to have it. And to know that you’ve moved on... it’s nice.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Keep coming back to group, Zoey. Maybe... maybe one day, somehow... we’ll be friends.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You really... you...?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I didn’t say immediately, but... you really are a cool person, even if you kissed my ex-fiancé. And I’d like to get to know you. Especially since you talked <em>minimally</em> during group.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“How much did I talk, anyway? I barely remember any of it... I spaced out.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You declined to talk about your dad and said you weren’t really ready right now, and then during all the questions, your answers barely ever got past the five word mark. But... good on you for joining a group, especially this early on. It’s good for you.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey nodded.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“See you around... Zoey.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“See you around,” Zoey said.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Jessica left, and after lingering for a few minutes when Mark asked where she worked (he was an accountant at a local bank,  New Bay Credit Union, and he was thoroughly impressed to learn that she was a programmer at SPRQ Point.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Finally, she left, and just as she was walking to the nearest BART station, her phone dinged with a text.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Wanna go out to dinner? That was an exhausting amount of talking about emotions. For some of us, anyway. [5:43 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I mean... I didn’t have anything else planned. But somewhere cheap, for sure. [5:46 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: There’s a new Mexican and Chinese fusion restaurant down by New Bay Credit Union, want to try that? [5:47 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: Why not? I’m just now getting onto a bus, twenty minutes? [5:50 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: See you there! [5:51 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>So why did it feel almost like cheating on Max to go to the restaurant with Simon?</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Trying new restaurants was something that she and Max did a lot of, especially when they’d worked together. But now he was freelancing, and nobody said that she couldn’t hang out with Simon and try a new restaurant with him, right? It shouldn’t feel like a crime, she was just trying out a Mexican and Chinese fusion restaurant by the credit union where Mark worked.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>She was allowed to go eat, geez. Zoey hated herself, but not quite enough to agonise over whether eating with Simon was a crime. Because it wasn’t. And eating would be a good idea, she hadn’t eaten yet today.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Her lack of eating was <em>habit</em> now, and it worried her, as much as she didn’t really care about her wellbeing. But it was now incredibly normal and becoming less and less hard to only eat once all day. She barely even got hungry anymore. So, she admitted it to herself. Zoey had developed an eating disorder. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>So why didn’t she care? Zoey from seventeen, maybe eighteen days ago would’ve been horrified, but Zoey, seventeen days after her dad died, didn’t care.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>It was just a part of her life now. Her metabolism was low and her ketones were higher than she’d ever gotten in her life, especially since she’d smoked weed, like, twice, and once she’d been shotgunning with her girlfriend at the time, Mia. And from personal experience, you really don’t get very high when shotgunning, especially when you forget the joint and start making out and then the blunt burns up Mia’s bean bag chair and sets off the sprinklers in her apartment. Burned bean bag chairs were a buzzkill in more ways than one (she and Mia had broken up two days later.)</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>But, anyway. Mia was married to a girl named Suzie now, and they’d moved to Berlin, and Zoey hadn’t seen her in years. She’d been a college girlfriend, and now she was several relationships past Mia.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey smiled at the prospect of telling Simon about how she’d burned a girlfriend’s bean bag chair. She was sure he’d laugh and make jokes, and Zoey would make some (self deprecating, of course) jokes, herself. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>And she’d actually never told Max either, the realisation making her feel stupid. That was a perfectly stupid story that he’d loose his shit laughing over, and she hadn’t told him, even when she was drunk? Even though she didn’t fully remember <em>every</em> night where she was drunk (she only half remembered Simon and Jessica’s engagement party by the morning after, especially since she knocked out at almost four in the morning after spending hours at the hospital), she was fairly certain she’d never told Max.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>These were stories worthy of being told to any prospective boyfriend.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>And hey... wouldn’t tonight be a nice night to come out to Simon?</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p><em>Absolutely not!</em> a voice in her head shouted. The same voice that shouted at her when to eat and when not to, shouted horrible things about her.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>But... maybe just this one... Zoey wouldn’t listen to that stupid voice. She’d listen to it on everything else, like how horrible of a person she was, and when to eat, but... just this once, she’d forget about it.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>So, she showed up to the restaurant at exactly nineteen minutes after her last text to Simon, and waited outside for him. He arrived two minutes later.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You’re slightly late, Simon Haynes. Punctuality is important,” she said, imitating her public speaking professor from when she was an undergrad. Professor Jane Marquez had had a British accent, and clipped the end of every sentence, and spoken directly and almost agonisingly clearly, every syllable in it’s place. It had been terrifying, but her and her college friends had spent a long time perfecting her accent and, in fact, the entire imitation, including the way she walked, like there was a stick in her butt.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Wow, nice accent,” Simon laughed. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“It was my public speaking professor in my first year of college,” Zoey explained. “Shall we go inside? I’m expecting this to be horrible.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Let’s,” Simon said, opening the door for her.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Maybe chivalry isn’t dead,” Zoey said, walking through the door, almost stopping short when she realised that she’d said almost the exact same thing to Max when <em>he’d</em> opened the door for her when they were eating at the Thai place.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Both men, she decided, were chivalrous, and devoted, and caring.... and... and perfect, in different yet equal ways.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>After a short wait, they got a table, a small round one, that seemed like it belonged in a Panera Bread or a coffee shop, not a restaurant. The menus were printed on a scroll that the waitress handed them, and Simon and Zoey unrolled them once they were seated.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Chalupas and fried rice with Chinese style grilled vegetables, huh?” Zoey read aloud.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“General Tso’s in an enchilada, served on a bed of grilled cabbage,” Simon added. “This sounds like it’ll either be amazing or horrific, with no in between.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>They made a bit of conversation, reporting on what was happening in their corners of work (Zoey had only ever interacted with marketing when she was being the floor boss, and that had lasted a <em>long</em> time, and Simon hardly ever interacted with programming) and then discussed Charlie a bit more, until the waitress came back for their orders.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey ended up getting the sesame chicken burrito (which apparently had refried beans, grilled vegetables, and fried rice with soy sauce and wasabi in it as well, which could only be horrible or great), and Simon ordered some  sweet and sour pork tacos, with teriyaki fajita skewers on the side.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Well!” Simon said, after the waitress had left. “This is either going to be delicious or horrific!” </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey knocked on the wooden table. “Hopefully it’ll be good... if not, it was only eight bucks, so... not entirely stupid amounts of money. And anyway, it’s the experience that matters.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’ll drink to that,” Simon joked, raising his glass of water like he was giving a toast. Zoey lifted her Coke and clinked glasses with him.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“So... Simon,” Zoey began, after having drank a good sip of Coke. Still refreshing, but the sugar felt like it was going to melt her teeth. She tried to refrain from having very many sodas overall.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Hm?” Simon asked.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey drummed her fingers on the tablecloth. “Welll... how would you feel if I told you something that not very many people know about me?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I would feel sincerely glad that you entrusted me with this information that you don’t trust very many people with, and I would probably respect whatever it was... within reason.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I... think that this is within reason? At least... I sure hope so, anyway.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Simon must’ve sensed Zoey’s hesitation, and so he leaned forward.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Whatever you have to say... I’ll listen. And I won’t be mad. Unless you tell me that you’re involved in a money laundering scheme or something.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Okay... well... I... I might be bisexual?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Oh, so am I!” Simon said, almost giddily.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Oh, cool!” Zoey said, beaming from ear to ear. That hadn’t been so hard!</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’m all about that bi life,” Simon said happily.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Okay, wait, that’s not all the coming out I have to do,” Zoey said.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’m... I’m also... I think I might be poly? Not Polynesian, but... polyamorous. I’m still figuring that out, but... yeah.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Simon looked pretty okay with that, as well. “Also cool. I respect that, Zoey.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“And no... none of this affects our relationship in any way. Not yet. I still have plenty of healing to do.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I understand. I think... my relationship with Jessica was <em>definitely</em> influenced by my grieving. And I don’t want something like that to happen to us.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“She... she actually told me as much. At the support group,” Zoey said slowly.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Oh... oh, wow. So you two are good now?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“We’ve made peace... and she wants to get to know me. Even if I spaced out and apparently said, like, nothing during group, I still want to go back. Not just because of Jessica. It was... kinda nice.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I agree, but... it’s a bit awkward, with your ex-fiancée being there, you know? I’m not sure if I’ll go back.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Aw, c’mon, Simon. We should go back! It’s good for both of us.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“It’s still awkward.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“So what? Awkwardness can promote healing. I read that somewhere.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Did you?”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Nope,” Zoey said, not missing a beat. “But I think it’s good for you. And it looks like you and Jessica made peace, too, sooo... what’s the harm in going back? Besides, it’s once a week. Not every day. And it only costs time, it’s not like it costs money.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’ll think about it,” Simon conceded.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“No... I really think you need therapy, Simon. And I think that this’ll be your gateway to getting it, since I’m fairly certain that you won’t get therapy otherwise. I’ll never be able to convince you on my own, but those people? And with that kind of mutual healing experience? I think you’ll eventually get convinced.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“So, really, this is just a way of you to rope me into therapy? Some big, grand conspiracy?” Simon half joked. But Zoey sensed his hesitation.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Look, Simon. You need a lot more help than a support group. Breaking up with Jessica partially because of grief should’ve made that painfully apparent to you, but it didn’t. So I’m going to take you to support group every week, and I’ll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have to.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“But you’re a mutual healing experience... and you’re also free. And more convenient.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“But I’m not going to be able to heal you, Simon!” Zoey cried, thankfully not raising her voice too much. Only one person glanced over at them, and then looked back away. Still, she lowered the volume. “I’m not enough to fix you, can’t you see? Jessica couldn’t do it either. I’m only human. So... help me get you help that <em>will</em> fix you. I can probably help... but I can’t do it on my own.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Simon took a deep breath. “How about this? I’ll get actual therapy, and I’ll try the support group one more time. Then, if I quit the group, I’ll still be going to therapy, and you can’t guilt me into going back.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Eesh, I didn’t mean to guilt you, but... holy cow, yes! Absolutely!” Zoey said, beaming again. “That’s freaking <em>awesome</em>, Simon. I’ll help you look up a therapist and everything!” </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Okay, I can do that myself. But... the fact that you’re this excited over this... that you’re <em>happy</em>... that’s enough to make me go.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Gee, a little happiness goes a long way, I guess,” Zoey joked. Simon shook his head.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“No, it really <em>does</em> go a long way. And I want to see you being happy more often. Your smile is beautiful, Zoey... and I see so little of it. I miss it.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You mean that?” Zoey asked softly.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Of course,” Simon assured her, reaching over the table and placing his hand on it. Zoey slowly placed her hand on his, and he squeezed hers gently. “I miss when you’re happy, Zoey. And I understand that happiness is something that seems almost unattainable right now... but I swear, it’ll happen. And when it does... I want to be there to see it. No matter what.”</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“That’s... oh, Jesus,” Zoey whispered, using her free hand to wipe her eyes.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Hey, don’t cry,” Simon hushed, cupping her cheek. <em>Now</em> Zoey appreciated the smallness of the table.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“I’m just... this means a lot to me, Simon. I’m just... I’m not used to people saying such nice things about me... in a way. Not that nobody’s ever said anything nice about me, but-“</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“You’re just not used to <em>listening</em> when people say nice things to you,” Simon said.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Oh... you’re right,” Zoey whispered. Max had said <em>plenty</em> of nice things to her, and Simon had said his own fair share before... but it was just now that Zoey allowed the compliment to actually touch her. She hadn’t been letting many compliments touch her lately... actually, she wasn’t good at listening to compliments <em>ever</em>. </p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>And it meant a lot to her that Simon had broken her down to let her feel that much.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>The voice inside her head whispered that she didn’t deserve to feel good, even for that one moment, but she ignored it, but for a bit, while Simon and Zoey ate their (surprisingly delicious) food, even while they walked home in the rain and Simon carried the umbrella, shielding Zoey from the water as the two purposefully stepped in as many puddles as possible, getting each other’s pants thoroughly wet and then some.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>She ignored that little, whispering voice in her head, up until Simon dropped her off at her door, and waved goodbye before turning and heading down the stairs. Softly, Zoey shut her door, and slid down it, plopping down onto the floor.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>After ten minutes of just staring into space, not really thinking, hardly breathing... Zoey let the voice have it’s way, and allowed herself to be convinced that she most certainly had <em>not</em> deserved to feel good, even briefly, as it was.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Why was it such a struggle just to be the tiniest bit okay?</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>Zoey drew her knees up to her chest, hugged them close, and cried softly.</p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>jessica.... i love her!! there was For Sure more going on in her &amp; simon’s relationship than the bit of cheating and i do think she has the capacity to forgive both of them (however it’s mentioned in some episode i think the piiiiilot that jessica hasn’t had any loss and that’s still correct that’ll unfold eventually).</p><p>anyway im a little sad that she prolly won’t be in season 2 (if it gets renewed!! fingers crossed on that so hard they break, wood thoroughly knocked, stars wished on so hard they might fall out of the sky &amp; wishes made every day at 11:11!!) </p><p>anyway she is amazing and i love her and india de beaufort, i was introduced to her from one day at a time and i think she’s incredible</p><p>also one last thing the pastor</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Eighteenth And Nineteenth Day (And If It Wasn’t Clear Already, Zoey Is A Bit Of A Workaholic!)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey does something stupid, followed by more stupidity, topped off with even more stupidity and a dash of exhaustion and Giving No Fucks.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>songs in this chapter include:</p><p><b>black magic woman</b> by santana </p><p><b>white liar</b> by miranda lambert</p><p> </p><p>there’s a decently big self harm tw for this chapter, here’s your list of skip points:</p><p>‘Zoey Clarke Was A Strong Individual’ ➡️ ‘Zoey Ended Up Going To Work’</p><p>‘She Took Ten Minutes To Dab Dry’ ➡️ ‘And Then She Got Right To Work’ </p><p>‘Now That She Had Actually Been Presented With The Option To Go With Him’ ➡️ ‘It Just Felt Like Sitting Here Reading Texts’</p><p>me: thx for 1,000 hits! <b>now suffer</b></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey woke up feeling terrible.</p><p>Not in a sick way, thank god. She depended on work, it was her escape, and if she couldn’t go... it would not be pretty.</p><p>She felt terrible in a mental health way.</p><p>Even though she’d had a wonderful evening with Simon, she had still befallen to the voices in her head telling her that she was a horrible person and didn’t deserve to be happy, and cried herself to sleep in her pink NASA shirt and boxer underwear.</p><p>At least she’d come out to Simon... and he, to her. It was nice, knowing she wasn’t the only one. And she knew that Max was bi, too, because he’d told her about a year ago, drunk off his ass and cuddling her (god, she missed cuddling people; she hadn’t done it in many, many months). And he definitely knew she was bi, he’d known almost their entire friendship. But he didn’t know that she was maybe sort of polyamorous.</p><p>But... Zoey was only beginning to warm up to the idea of dating both Simon and Max at the same time. And Simon had been plenty accepting, and <em>he</em> was the one who’d sung Jealous, so if she should be scared of anyone’s reaction, it should be his.</p><p>And yet... she hadn’t been all that scared to tell Simon. Maybe she’d been emboldened by whatever thing in the universe came over her and allowed her to have a happy evening, but... she was much more hesitant to the idea of telling Max.</p><p>She didn’t want him to be hurt, because historically, <em>Max</em> had been the jealous one. But he’d seemed to have dealt with it, and now, the tables were turned, and Simon was the jealous one. Zoey had barely mentioned Max to him since her dad died... she wondered if she’d told him at all.</p><p>And right now... she felt a horrible guilt rush into her body, making her blood run shockingly cold, as she realised that she’d been barely <em>thinking</em> about her dad lately.</p><p>A defiant, tiny voice in her head screamed that <em>that wasn’t true, she’d thought of him every single day, for Christ’s sake, she’d gone to a support group the previous day!</em></p><p>Yeah... and did she deserve to go to a support group? Maybe he would’ve wanted it... but she didn’t feel like she <em>deserved</em> it.</p><p>She felt lost and scared.</p><p>She didn’t want to go to work, or anywhere... just kinda wanted to sit here and cry.</p><p>But she couldn’t. Zoey Clarke was a strong individual who was a team leader on the 4th floor of SPRQ Point.</p><p>As she fixed her hair in the bathroom, Zoey spotted her lighter. She had a collection of candles in the bathroom, along with a lighter, because she was too lazy to put it back where it went, in a kitchen drawer. Whenever she took a bath, she’d line the bathtub with candles and loose herself in a book, or an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved.</p><p>She picked up the lighter, rolled it around in her hand, feeling the small plastic item, feeling like someone in an episode of Unsolved, herself, as she traced the wand with her pointer finger.</p><p>She clicked the lighter on, and imagined how it would feel if she held it close to the skin on her arm. On her shoulder, so nobody would see unless she wore a tank top.</p><p>____________________</p><p>Zoey ended up going to work, silently stuffed into her Brogammers jacket, and her biggest sweater. Hot pink, with puffy, almost 80s style sleeves, with little silver details. It went over her butt, so Zoey wore fleece lined yoga pants with it. Which was nice, because the wind and the harshly falling rain was as brutal as ever.</p><p>She walked to work, without an umbrella, deciding she needed the extra punishment in her life. She’d... calmed herself down... and put a bit of foundation on what she’d done to her shoulder. Zoey had received the foundation for a birthday or Christmas or something, from someone, she didn’t remember who. All she knew is that she’d used it exactly once before now. </p><p>It had stung when she’d applied it.</p><p>Zoey arrived at work soaked almost all the way through, her Brogrammers jacket had to be wrung out before she went outside, and her sweater was quite damp, clinging to her goosebumped skin.</p><p>She was not the only SPRQ Point employee who was wet, but she was certainly the wettest of them all, and the only one without an umbrella.</p><p>Zoey ignored the stares, and went right up to the elevator, tapping the 4, and getting right in when it arrived promptly.</p><p>She took ten minutes to dab herself dry with paper towels in the ladies’ bathroom, rolling up her sleeves to try and soak up everything that had gotten under her sweater. Zoey ignored the way the angry red marks on her forearm stung and screamed as she roughly swiped the rough towel over them.</p><p>And then she got right to work.</p><p>But after endless days of mindlessly coding, knowing that her coding was good but mindless... Zoey had hit a block again.</p><p>More like, she exited out of what she was doing and then slammed her head against the keyboard. Repeatedly.</p><p>“You doing okay over there?” Charlie asked, coincidentally having been walking by when Zoey began to slam her head against the keyboard.</p><p>“I’m just... frustrated. Really, really frustrated!” Zoey snapped loudly- which she hadn’t meant to do. “Sorry, I just-“</p><p>“I get it. Can I see what you’re working on?” Charlie asked kindly.</p><p>“Sure,” Zoey said, entering her file again and turning the screen towards her.</p><p>Charlie leaned over her to peer at the screen, and then typed two lines of code in. “There, I think that’ll help. Having a spot to jump off of that I didn’t start always helps me,” she said.</p><p>And she was right, because Zoey knew <em>exactly</em> what to do now. Her hands were instinctively twitching in her lap, wanting to get back to the keyboard. Charlie smiled at her, turned the monitor back towards her, and stood back up.</p><p>“That help?” Charlie asked.</p><p>Zoey’s fingers met the keyboard naturally, like her fingertips contained one pole of a magnet and the keyboard, the opposite one.</p><p>“Yeah... that did help, actually. Thanks, Charlie.”</p><p>“Not a problem. Oh, by the way, be ready to get that to the sixth floor today, we’re meeting Ava and her team for a status meeting at ten,” she said, heels clicking as she walked away, back to her office.</p><p>How could this be the same woman who’d sung Would I Lie To You to <em>herself?</em> In every other interaction besides that song, Charlie had seemed genuine, and it was confusing the heck out of Zoey. But heart songs were one’s inner truth, so... Zoey was at a loss of what to do.</p><p>She got back to her work.</p><p>At ten sharp, the entire fourth floor coding team, with Charlie and Zoey leading the pack, entered the sixth floor, all armed with laptops.</p><p>They sat with the sixth floor team in their conference room, which was still entirely too small for all of them to sit, only fourteen chairs being there, so Charlie sat at the foot of the table, Ava at the head, and Zoey, Tobin, Leif, Tulsi, Greg, and Tom on the left side of the table, and people who were introduced to them all as Hannah, Harry, Robert, Joe, Lucas, and Jake on the other side. </p><p>Hannah Tunil was the only one that Zoey had ever heard of, and she was, apparently, the programmer team leader of the sixth floor. She was pretty, warm brown skin with huge brown eyes, and long brown hair down her back in a braid rivalling Charlie’s, and she wore a suit jacket, a purple shirt, and suit pants.</p><p>All of the other programmers stood behind their team members who sat at the table.</p><p>Ava and Charlie talked business, and Zoey presented the work of her team, Hannah presented her team’s, and then they talked about combining everything and such.</p><p>When the conversation went back to between Ava and Charlie, Zoey knew she needed to pay attention to it, but damn it all, because the music began, and Charlie began to sing, swaying to the gentle beat.</p><p>
  <em> Got a black magic woman</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Got a black magic woman</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I've got a black magic woman</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Got me so blind I can't see</em>
</p><p>Charlie pulled the very same compact mirror out of her coat pocket, and smiled at herself as she sat primly on the side of the table, legs crossed, and sang to her own reflection.</p><p>
  <em> That she's a black magic woman</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She's trying to make a devil out of me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don't turn your back on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don't turn your back on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, don't turn your back on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stop messing about with your tricks</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don't turn your back on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You just might pick up my magic sticks</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You got your spell on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You got your spell on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, you got your spell on me, baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Turnin' my heart into stone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need you so bad</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Magic woman I can't leave you alone</em>
</p><p>“We can have that all ready within a week, and be ready to present it to the board of directors,” Charlie said. Zoey blinked. Charlie was right back in her seat, mirror nowhere to be found, and there was still a meeting going on.</p><p>Ava and Charlie pushed their seats out at the same time, and Ava walked over to Charlie, shaking her hand. </p><p>“I look forward to continuing to work with you, Charlotte,” Ava said.</p><p>“And you, as well,” Charlie said, clipped and formal and polite.</p><p>And then the sixth floor team emptied out, and the fourth floor team filtered out as well, heading for the elevators.</p><p>Once they were back on the fourth floor, Zoey pulled Tobin aside. “Okay. I totally spaced out after Hannah and I decided to get all the way through the secondary functions and do it in a month, and then Ava and Charlie started talking again, what’d I miss?”</p><p>“We have to get our half of the core functions done this week,” Tobin said, sighing.</p><p>“Well... okay. So, we’ll do that!” And with that, Zoey began delegating tasks related to that, of course giving herself the largest share of work, before diving back in.</p><p>She had taken Charlie’s advice a bit and left herself a jumping off place, rather than getting to a natural stopping point, and Zoey was able to work solid through lunch hour. Simon had lunch with a client that day, so he couldn’t stop her from skipping lunch.</p><p>Zoey continued to work, all the way through to five o’clock, and people began to trickle out, including te utterly confusing Charlie, even Simon leaving, telling her to remember to stop before she got overwhelmed and to eat, and soon, Zoey was the only one left on the floor.</p><p>But she kept working, determined to power through. The late afternoon light turned into the easterly reflection of a sunset through the clouds, and then it turned pitch black, and began to rain again.</p><p>Her phone buzzed with texts, but Zoey ignored them and kept at it.</p><p>Zoey didn’t know how late she worked, all that she knew was that Tobin shook her awake in the morning.</p><p>“You passed out good, Zoey,” he said cheerfully.</p><p>Zoey begrudgingly picked up her head and stared first at him, and then at the grey and rainy day outside, and the fact that Tobin’s watch said that it was nine in the morning.</p><p>“Any idea how late you stayed up?” Tobin asked.</p><p>“No idea. Wanna look at my work and see where we’re at while I go to the bathroom? I have no idea how far I got.”</p><p>“Sure thing, boss,” Tobin said. To Zoey, he seemed almost giddy.</p><p>Zoey looked at him oddly, tilting her head ever so slightly in confusion. “Why are you so giddy?”</p><p>“I think that it’s just that you’re tired,” Tobin said, poking her arm until she stood up out of her chair, stretching her arms and back until it popped, and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Tobin plopped down in her chair, and shooed her away.</p><p>“Wait, lemme put in the password, geez,” Zoey said, leaning over to type it in.</p><p>“I could hack through this in an hour.”</p><p>“Do you really want to go back to jail?” Zoey teased tiredly.</p><p>“Touchè.”</p><p>Zoey went to the bathroom, combed through her hair with her fingers, and rubbed her face with water until she felt the slightest bit like a human being. She needed coffee, but in an IV wired to her heart. Maybe then she’d feel a bit less like she was walking around in a dream. Right now, the only thing truly grounding her to any sort of reality were the two red marks on her shoulder, still stinging angrily against her shirt.</p><p>While she was straightening herself out, Charlie came into the bathroom, heels clicking. “Oh, hello, Zoey. Word on the street is that you stayed overnight?” Charlie’s tone was teasing but kind. Seriously, how was this the woman who had sung multiple songs about how she was lying so nice.</p><p>“Not on purpose,” Zoey defended herself jokingly.</p><p>Charlie pulled the hair tie off the end of her braid and began pulling it out. “I love the commitment, Zoey. Keep it up!”</p><p>As Zoey finished up and walked out in search of coffee, she heard a few lines of a song.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, white liar</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Truth comes out a little at a time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Slips off of your tongue like turpentine</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I don't know why, white liar.</em>
</p><p>Zoey turned around with a sigh, and found that Charlie was singing at her reflection while pulling her hair up into a bun at the back of her hair.</p><p>
  <em>You better be careful what you do</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If they ever found you out.</em>
</p><p>Zoey left the bathroom, ignoring the rest of the song as Charlie sang it out.</p><p><em>Sing your heart out, Charlie, I have enough to deal with besides my new boss being a liar</em> and <em>sharing a name with my old boss’ ex-husband.</em></p><p>________________________</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, so, you did a <em>shit</em> ton of work, Zoey. Like... two days worth of work... on your own. I still don’t know how you do it.”</p><p>“It’s a simple formula: insanity, being a nerd, and mad typing skills. Mix it all together and you have an idiot.”</p><p>“Cheers, I’d drink to that,” Tobin said, taking a swig of whatever the heck was in his SPRQ Point water bottle (Zoey knew better than to ask) and got out of Zoey’s chair. “Sit, mi’lady.”</p><p>Zoey sat down slowly, and Tobin pushed her chair into her desk.</p><p>“Morning, Zoey. How do you like your coffee?” Leif asked, passing by with a stack of papers.</p><p>“One cream, five sugars... why?”</p><p>“Apparently you got almost half of the work done in one day slash night... can I at least get you some coffee?” Leif asked.</p><p>“I mean... sure. I guess, anyway... thanks, Leif.” Zoey said slowly.</p><p>“One cream, five sugars?” Leif asked.</p><p>“One cream, five sugars,” Zoey confirmed.</p><p>As Leif was off dealing with coffee, Zoey dove back into work, finding that all that she needed to do on the coding side of things was a tiny bit more, before she needed to move to making a PowerPoint and shit, so she went ahead and completed the little bit before Leif even got back, and after having thanked Leif heartily, she moved on to beginning the PowerPoint.</p><p>When she reached a stopping point and her brain was hurting too much not to take a break, Zoey exhaustedly picked up her phone and checked her missed texts.</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Text me when you’re out of the office? Just want to make sure you get home okay. [6:32 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: I haven’t seen you in entirely too long, Miss Zoey, Thou Shalt Be Glowy. Wanna grab dinner? [6:37 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Mom: Please text me when you get home so that I know you’re okay, Zoey. [6:37 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>David: I have a really cute baby. Like or RT for more content like this. [9:44 PM]</b>
</p><p>Attached to David’s text was a really, really cute photo of Zach staring at the camera like it held all the secrets of the universe, eyes hugely wide.</p><p>Zoey sent him a heart eyes emoji, told her mom that she’d had a late night but that she was fine, told Simon that she’d stayed overnight but was fine, and sent a lengthy apology to Max for not responding, telling him also that she’d stayed at work overnight.</p><p>
  <b>Max: No biggie! We can get lunch today, instead. [10:11 AM]</b>
</p><p>Almost immediately, Zoey was swallowed up by an all-encompassing feeling of <em>dread</em>, followed closely with guilt, as she realised <em>why</em> she was dreading it.</p><p>It wasn’t even because of Max. She would love to see Max. But she was afraid of having to have a conversation, having to hide the fact that she was <em>so</em> not okay, having to hide the fact that she’d gone out to eat with Simon the night before she’d blown him off for dinner. Having to be okay, in public, and work, at this point, hardly counted as public.</p><p>Zoey didn’t want to go out and talk to someone and eat food. She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about it, but she couldn’t even remember if she’d eaten anything since the Mexican and Chinese fusion restaurant with Simon.</p><p>Why hadn’t she dreaded going out with Simon? Thinking about it now, she wouldn’t feel too terrible about going out with him for lunch, because he at least understood what she was going through. He was far easier to talk to... even though she’d hardly talked to him about the elephant in the room, and even less to Max.</p><p>But she genuinely loved Max (in a friend way, and also in a ‘I’m Not In A Place To Start A Romantic Relationship, Nor Sort Out The Logistics Of Possibly Dating Two Men At Once, But I Can Appreciate That They’re Hot And I <em>Want</em> A Romantic Relationship With Both Of Them’ way.)</p><p>It didn’t make sense that she’d prefer to go with Simon, and didn’t feel so all encompassing dread and guilt about going out to eat with Max.</p><p>Until Simon texted her back.</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Wanna go grab some Cheesequakes for lunch, World’s Best Programmer? [10:21 AM]</b>
</p><p><em>No.</em> Now that she actually had been presented with the offer to go with him... she was filled with the same dread and subsequent guilt that she had over Max. Zoey <em>did not want</em> to go anywhere, have people look at her, and pretend she was doing okay, when she had fucking burned herself yesterday! On purpose! If there was any other possible signpost that she was headed toward Falling The Fuck Apart Land, it would be her having burned somewhere where it would’ve hurt more... or worse.</p><p>It felt like just sitting here reading texts was lying just as much as she would be if she went out with anyone.</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’m sorry, Max, I just have a lot of work to do and a deadline, but maybe we can do it some other time? [10:25 AM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’m sorry, Simon, I have a deadline and a stupid amount of work, but maybe another time? [10:25 AM]</b>
</p><p>Zoey waited.</p><p>
  <b>Simon: No prob! I understand, Queen Java. [10:27 AM]</b>
</p><p>Zoey waited some more, even going back to work as she waited for Max’s response. Her mind swam with possibilities from ‘He Hates Me’ to ‘He Got Hit By A Car’ to ‘His Phone Died.’</p><p>Finally, her phone dinged with a text.</p><p>
  <b>Max: Fine. [10:48 AM]</b>
</p><p>‘Fine.’ With a period.</p><p>“Fine?!” Zoey groaned out loud. She did <em>not</em> need this.</p><p>It was clear to see, Max was mad at her. Which was one of the <em>last</em> things she needed right now. But of course, between the universe continuing to tell her how horrible of a person Charlie was, and of course everything going in her head, of course the universe threw her this curveball.</p><p>
  <em>Thanks, universe.</em>
</p><p>But honestly... she realised that she’d rather he be mad at her than have him comfort her.</p><p>The realisation should have woken her up, but it didn’t. </p><p>It couldn’t.</p><p>She was fast asleep to how bad it had gotten. Awake to the facts, but too asleep to have a constructive reaction to it.</p><p>Zoey took ten minutes to cry in the (almost always deserted, thank god) women’s bathroom over the prospect of loosing Max, the fact that she was falling apart mentally, and her frustration with all of it, and then got back to work.</p><p>And tried not to feel too guilty about Simon bringing her a Cheesequake at noon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>am i making charlie a campy villain? yes. is the climax of charlie’s little arc gonna be campy? absolutely yes.</p><p>we have one more, maybe two more chapters and then there’s going to be a bunch of chapters that all take place on the same day, which, i will admit, is partially to see if i can get the chapter numbers to catch up with the days. it’ll probably be just as ‘fun’ as this chapter! </p><p>tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands, but we all know that my murder is happening on discord.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Twentieth Day (And Some Truths, Some Songs, And Some Emotions)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey finishes a major project, gets drunk, gets hungover, and has a very musical morning.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heartsongs in this chapter include:</p><p><b>i need your love</b> by ellie goulding &amp; calvin harris </p><p><b>healing</b> by alrissa (i ‘used’ the acoustic version rather than the original, both work but the acoustic version is good listening for the chapter as a whole)</p><p><b>grow as we go</b> by ben platt</p><p>so i didn’t close an html tag and a section of this chapter was fucked up for a hot minute, but the crisis has been averted!<br/> </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What’s your ETA, Zoey?” Tobin asked from across the room.</p><p>“Five minutes, and then we can run it all together and start testing,” Zoey said, fingers dancing on the keyboard as she inputted the final bits of code.</p><p>Five minutes passed, and Zoey pressed the last key on her code, the last number, the final bit in the final line of all the coding for the Chirp pre-prototype and pre-major testing.</p><p>“You ready, Tobin, Leif, Greg?” Zoey asked, beaming from ear to ear. Finally, it was done-ish, and Zoey couldn’t be more overjoyed. She’d been working on this for months- they’d <em>all</em> been working on it for months, and now they were ready to run the first test cycle. </p><p>The sixth floor had finished their coding half an hour before them and sent it downstairs, but nobody cared that technically, the sixth floor had beaten them. All they cared about was their final push.</p><p>“I’m ready!” Tobin said. Without even looking up, Zoey could tell he was just as excited as she was. Leif and Greg gave similar confirmation, and Zoey pressed the button that inputted all of the code, every single digit of coding that had been made for the Chirp, into one entity. All together, everyone’s work indistinguishable from that of someone else.</p><p>The coding team of the sixth floor, including Ava, had arrived twenty minutes earlier, and had crowded around everyone’s desks down here as the final bits of code were put in. After months and months of work, it finally being done was massive, and everyone wanted to see the code being all put together, and then the first tests.</p><p>Slowly, the code formed into the one full entity, everything where it needed to be, in it’s perfect place. </p><p>“Alright, let’s take it for a spin!” Zoey said excitedly. </p><p>They ran the first few tests on connectivity with the browser that they had had to create for the Chirp. Rather than partner with Google or someone else and have their search engines search the person’s face in the database, they created an entirely separate browser that searched for faces and would bring up relevant data on the face, usually finding it in a social media page and then it would spit out information on the user, all at breakneck speed. And the test went smoothly.</p><p>Next, Zoey inputted the string of code that would be automatically be generated when a face was seen by the user and the button for facial search was pressed. There was no face attached to it, so she was testing that the error code would work correctly, and it did.</p><p>About twenty minutes of testing later, and the two teams were thoroughly satisfied- overjoyed, in fact. Zoey had completed the PowerPoint presentation, written up a script and given Hannah half of it, and was most of the way there on memorisation, so all they had to do was finish memorising and then... that was it, until they were approved for a prototype.</p><p>And even better, it was 4:57 in the afternoon, which meant they could leave in three minutes.</p><p>But since they were clearly at a natural stopping point and were not at all about to start on something new right now, the group of roughly twenty excited millennials just began to gab excitedly, while Ava and Charlie went to Charlie’s office for god only knows what, Zoey didn’t know or care.</p><p>“Maybe we should head out to O’Malley’s for some drinks,” Leif suggested. Quickly, almost everyone concurred.</p><p>“Okay, but it’s five... isn’t that a little too early for drinking?” Zoey asked.</p><p>“It’s never too early for drinking, Zoey,” Tobin said. “Especially when we’re ready for presentation to the board three days early. It’s pretty goddamn exciting.”</p><p>“It is... I just don’t know if going out drinking is the best idea.”</p><p>“Of course it’s a good idea!” Leif argued.</p><p>And so, Zoey got roped into taking the BART down to O’Malley’s and arguably day drinking. When was it considered day drinking, and when was it night drinking?</p><p>These were the thoughts on Zoey’s mind after four shots and a margarita, although, far less eloquent.</p><p>“Okay, so if evening starts at six or whatever, it should still be day drinking at five,” Zoey said, slightly slurred, staring deeply into Tobin’s eyes.</p><p>“No, because five is really late. I go to bed at eight, five is really, really, really late,” Tobin argued.</p><p>Zoey was a relatively quiet (and also relatively stupid) drunk, quietly knocking back another shot anytime a drunken coworker shouted that a round of shots were on them (which was probably every twenty minutes) and propping her head up on her fist, giving a halfhearted response to questions that occasionally got shot her way.</p><p>Eventually, Zoey broke her silence... digitally.</p><p>
  <b>Me: Max, I’m, like, so drunk. [7:23 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: Look at the time stamp on that text. This isn’t even late enough to get drunk! But tell me where you are, so I can come supervise you? [7:24 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I HAVE BEEN HAVING A LONG DISCUSSIOM ABOUT THIS. it’s not day drinking past 6, but if you get off work at 5 and you drunk before 6 it doesn’t count as day drinking, but it does if you get off at any other tiem. Tonin thinks that it should count as day drinking until it’s 6 with everyone, but I don’t agree. We got the coding and every thing done so we can present the chirpy thing to the board soon so we can get one built. Isn’t that cool!!!! We finished early!!! So we cane and come to drink and we’re all drunk-ish but he’s still arguing with me over day drinking. [7:30 PM]</b>
</p><p>It took Zoey a <em>long</em> time to type that all out, and then drunkenly check for typos, which ended up resulting in a finished product that had more typos than the first draft had.</p><p>
  <b>Max: Where are you? I’d like to discuss the laws of day drinking with you. [7:31 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: I’m at O’Malley’s. It’s all Irish and cool and hug🌹[7:34 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Max: I’m not even gonna ask. Be there in twenty. [7:34 PM]</b>
</p><p>The twenty minutes felt like nothing to Zoey- probably because she was so utterly exhausted (and drunk; the drunkenness hadn’t helped) that she had fallen asleep, head resting on the bar, next to a <em>lot</em> of empty shot glasses.</p><p>Max had shaken her awake, and Zoey had shooed him. “Go away, I’m sleeping.”</p><p>“You can sleep in your bed, Zoey. Now come on.”</p><p>Zoey lifted her head up and looked at him- and then the person standing next to him. “Mo? You came too?”</p><p>Mo gave a sort of <em>welp</em> grin. “I have seen you a little drunk, but Max made it seem like you were <em>drunk</em> on the phone, and I had to get a load of it. He was not exaggerating. Now let’s get you home, dear.”</p><p>“You’re very sparkly,” Zoey commented absently.</p><p>Mo, resplendent in a tracksuit that was covered in blue sequins all over, flipped his long blonde braid that fell below his knees. “Thank you for noticing, dear.</p><p>Zoey smiled, hopping down from the bar stool, and as such, was not prepared when her knees promptly gave out.</p><p>It was actually because of the lightheadedness, but probably also because of her blood alcohol content, and Zoey, albeit, drunk, as previously mentioned, knew better than to say that it was from the fact that she literally could not remember the last time she ate.</p><p>So instead, she let Mo and Max help her up, and giggled against her will. “That was a long way down,” she babbled.</p><p>Zoey didn’t really remember the car ride home, just remembered Mo and Max somewhat forcibly removing her from Max’s car, and the fact that she woke up the next morning with the sun streaming through her windows through the cracks in between the curtains, with a giant headache.</p><p>She groaned, throwing her blankets over her head to stifle out the bright sunlight. Thank god it was Saturday. </p><p>Zoey heard her bedroom door slowly open, and she peeked exactly one eye and a bit of forehead out from under her covers to see who it was. She had pepper spray under her bed, and she was already moving to dive down and grab it, headache or not.</p><p>Luckily, it was just Max. </p><p>“Well good morning, sunshine,” Max said cheerfully, as Zoey, already hanging halfway off the bed, prepared to grab her pepper spray, fell off the bed.</p><p>Max laughed, and Zoey shot him a Look from the floor. “My head hurts.”</p><p>“I’ll make you breakfast, nice Jewish eggs and toast, that work?”</p><p>Zoey groaned. “I’ll forgive you for scaring the shit out of me if you make those fucking Jewish eggs... and I’m tempted to ask for bacon but I don’t even think I have any.”</p><p>Max wrinkled up his nose. “Okay, so, I might not keep Kosher exactly, but I at <em>least</em> don’t eat that shit. I don’t understand how anyone does.”</p><p>“It’s magically delicious.”</p><p>“No, that’s Lucky Charms.”</p><p>“I said what I said!” Zoey insisted loudly, and Max laughed again.</p><p>“Alright, well, I brought eggs and bread and cream cheese over from my place, mostly because I have access to organic, locally made cream cheese and eggs, and I buy more expensive bread, which is also better bread.”</p><p>“What’d you have to do to get local cream cheese and eggs in San Francisco?”</p><p>“Okay, well, they come from a farm in Gardnerville, Nevada, so I mean... technically speaking, it’s pretty local.”</p><p>Zoey laughed from her position, criss cross applesauce on the floor next to her bed. The bed protected her from the nuclear beams of light streaming through her windows when she was sitting like this, so she didn’t feel <em>great</em>, but not <em>terrible</em>, without the light in her face.</p><p>“How close is Gardnerville?”</p><p>“It’s right over the state line, kinda close-ish to Reno. Three and a half hours from here if you don’t mind paying tolls.”</p><p>“That’s not local, that’s Nevada. I think once you cross state lines, it’s no longer local.”</p><p>“What if you lived in the Tennessee Valley, and you got eggs from Alabama, which could be less than twenty minutes away?”</p><p>“The fuck is the Tennessee Valley?”</p><p>“It’s where Georgia, Tennessee, and Alabama meet. And it’s a valley in the middle of the Appalachias. One day, we ought to hike the trail... although you won’t hit the Tennessee Valley, I don’t think.”</p><p>“Cool, do they all meet in one place, like the four corners?”</p><p>“No. But they all touch. Tennessee actually touches eight states. Alabama, Georgia, Mississippi, Missouri, Arkansas, North Carolina, Virginia, and Kentucky.”</p><p>“You’re full of many fun facts, but I don’t see any of those famous Richman Jewish eggs in front of me.”</p><p>“Correct. Jewish eggs, coming right up. You can sit on the couch while I prepare your breakfast, m’lady.”</p><p>“Only if you close any place where sunlight may come in, and close these places <em>securely</em>.”</p><p>“No sunlight, got it. Shall I siphon off some of my blood while I do that?” Max said the whole thing in whatever accent vampires spoke in. A vampirical accent? She’d type it into her Notes app later to see if the dotted red lines appeared under the word.</p><p>“Absolutely not. What kind of self respecting vampire woman would drink her best friend’s blood?” Zoey said with false outrage.</p><p>She wished she hadn’t caught the tiny fall in his expression when she’d said ‘best friend.’</p><p>Zoey just knew that she <em>could not</em> give Max what he wanted right now... and if she did try... it might end in her loosing him.</p><p>Her emotions were too much of a mess right now to be what he wanted, but God, the hurt little look on his face near broke her heart.</p><p>But it lasted only a second, and Max’s face went back to the cheerful expression it’d held before. “I’ll go close everything up for you, Madame Vampire. Perhaps a Bloody Mary with breakfast?”</p><p>“Ew, no more alcohol,” Zoey said, scrunching up her face in disgust.</p><p>As Max walked out of the room to the kitchen, she heard the electric beat begin.</p><p>“Oh god, again? I don’t need this right now.”</p><p>From a distance, she heard Max start singing.</p><p>
  <em>I need your love</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need your time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When everything's wrong</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You make it right</em>
</p><p>“I most certainly do <em>not</em>,” Zoey retorted. She hadn’t talked to the person singing in awhile, but she couldn’t help it today.</p><p>The fact that he was so intent on this.... she just... she’d told him to wait! Had she blue balled him romantically? Of course. But she needed to heal... she didn’t need this.</p><p>
  <em>I feel so high</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I come alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need to be free with you tonight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need your love</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need your love</em>
</p><p>“Why can’t you just wait?!” Zoey nearly screeched, marching out to the source of the sound. Max was in the kitchen, cracking eggs into a bowl and then searching around for a whisk. Zoey knew he wouldn’t find one, so she opened the drawer to give him a fork- and found herself swept up in his dance break.</p><p>It was a ballroom-esque dance, but very fast paced, and to an electric beat, and Zoey groaned, begrudgingly going along with it until he plucked the fork out of her hand and spun her away as the lyrics resumed.</p><p>
  <em>I take a deep breath every time I pass your door</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know you're there but I can't see you anymore</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And that's the reason you're in the dark</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I've been a stranger ever since we fell apart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I feel so out of sea</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Watch my eyes are filled with fear</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tell me do you feel the same</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hold me in your arms again</em>
</p><p>He’d been whisking the eggs during the entire second verse, and now he poured the contents of the bowl into the frying pan, dumping in a generous helping of cream cheese, studying it- and then putting in more.</p><p>
  <em>I need your love</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need your time</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When everything's wrong</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You make it right</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I feel so high</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I go alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need to be free with you tonight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need your love.</em>
</p><p>Zoey plopped down on the couch, grateful that he’d at least thought to close the blinds before bursting into song.</p><p>As Max cooked, her phone buzzed from next to her, and she sighed, but picked it up to see what it was.</p><p>
  <b>Joan: Heard you guys got done early, so we’ll be having the board meeting on Monday at eleven AM, and there will be sushi! Don’t be late, Zoey! 💨🍙</b>
</p><p>Great! Awesome. Several days early. Because that’s what Zoey needed.</p><p>Not long later, Max brought her a plate with a huge helping of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast, and against her will, her stomach growled and mouth watered in anticipation. She made grabby hands, and Max laughed, handing her the plate.</p><p>Zoey took a big bite of the eggs, and momentarily forgot how mad she was at him. They were light and fluffy, and there was a <em>lot</em> of cream cheese, the perfect amount.</p><p>“I might seriously consider converting to Judaism,” Zoey half-moaned. Max’s eggs, momentarily, would stifle her anger. She couldn’t be angry until after she was done.</p><p>“In seriousness, I think you’d probably make a pretty good Jew. You’d have to give up bacon, though.”</p><p>“What else, though?”</p><p>“Well, all pig products, so no pigs in a blanket, and shellfish, and all fish have to have scales, which is why shellfish isn’t okay... speaking of food. Your pantry and fridge are <em>empty.</em> Care to explain?”</p><p>Zoey cringed, and took a big, huge bite of eggs. She chewed it slowly, feeling a bit like a cow chewing on a mouthful of grass, finally swallowing it after a long, long time chewing. Max was unwavering, staring at her expectantly.</p><p>“I’ve been planning on going shopping, and then I keep forgetting or working late, so I’ve been basically living off the cereal bar.”</p><p>Max looked unimpressed.</p><p>“You don’t have any food at your house besides a box of crackers and one cucumber and one apple, and yet you blew me off for eating out with me?”</p><p>“Max... I was busy. It was nothing personal. You worked there, you know what it’s like, plus I have to manage people. And the coding for the Chirp has been in full swing, like I said, we had gone out drinking after finishing what was needed before we got approved for a prototype early, so-“</p><p>“Speaking of drinking. Why were you out drinking without a responsible chaperone- Tobin doesn’t count, and he clearly wasn’t a designated driver with the keg stand he was doing- when you had gotten drunk off your ass a bit ago and not gotten home for three days.”</p><p>“Everyone was going, Max, and you’re not my mother.”</p><p>“If everyone jumped off a boat into the Bay, would you?”</p><p><em>You could have just said it how it’s supposed to be said, with the jumping off the bridge!</em> Zoey thought. <em>And if you wanted to be region specific, you could have said the Golden Gate Bridge! Why a boat, Max?!</em></p><p>“That is not the same thing.”</p><p>“I don’t want you becoming an alcoholic, Zoey!” Max said, raising his voice.</p><p>Zoey laughed sarcastically. “I go out drinking one night and now I’m an alcoholic? You’re not upset about the fact that I got drunk, you’re upset that I didn’t call you in the first place and have you parade me around. And yet I still had <em>you</em> pick me up!” Her voice, too, was raised, and after the stupid fucking song he’d sung, she was ready for a fight.</p><p>“You told me you went out drinking and stayed drunk for three days! You think I’m not going to be concerned over you drinking after you tell me that?!”</p><p>“No, actually, you know what this is?! This is you, being upset that you don’t get to parade me around as your girlfriend! You said you were gonna keep from being all jealous and said you weren’t gonna bring it up until I was ready, but I’ve had to deal with you singing me love songs every five seconds!”</p><p>“Well if I sung it, I must be feeling it. And isn’t it the rule that you have to deal with it to make it stop?”</p><p>“You sang me I Need Your Love ten minutes ago! I told you I couldn’t be in a relationship right now!”</p><p>“It’s not my fault you heard that. Am I not allowed to have feelings even though I can’t act on them? Believe me, I would not have sung that to you if I had the choice. This has nothing to do with my heart songs!”</p><p>“It has everything to do with it!”</p><p>“It has everything to do with the fact that I am worried about you, Zoey! You say you’re fine but you’re always pale and looking like you might fall over any second, and you eat so... so deliberately, like you’re trying to hide something, or you shovel it like a madwoman. And this potential alcoholism... it’s not okay!”</p><p>“You know what?! Here’s the truth, I was never out drinking for three days straight!” </p><p>Zoey knew in her heart that Max was right to be concerned about her, but he didn’t have the right information. He was concerned with the information he had, which was not accurate... so it was time to tell him the truth.</p><p>“I was the SPRQ Point employee who fell into the bay! I spent three days in the hospital and nobody came to visit and I have never felt so crushingly <em>alone</em> in my life! My watch and phone were wrecked when I fell in! I told my mom that I was sick because I didn’t want to make her feel guilty for not picking up whatever random number called her, trying to tell her that her daughter was in the hospital, and because she didn’t pick up the phone, nobody else came. The drinking thing seemed like a good enough excuse to get you off my back, but I can’t have you nagging me over something that happened.”</p><p>Zoey sighed loudly and rubbed her temples after getting that out of her system.</p><p>Max was silent, cold and silent for entirely too long, and fear began to build in Zoey’s stomach, digging a pit in it, and the excess body matter was pushed up into her throat in a huge lump.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s not even something worthy of being hidden.”</p><p>His voice was soft and gentle.</p><p>And Zoey couldn’t stand it.</p><p>“Because I don’t deserve you! And you deserve better... I don’t know why you’re so smitten over me! I don’t want you to feel guilty... I didn’t want you to feel guilty! But you... you and your need to have me... I can’t do it right now.”</p><p>Max opened his mouth to say something, but Zoey opened her mouth first.</p><p>
  <em> Wish I could've found the words to say</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wish I could've given what you gave</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Cause we could've loved, we could've been something</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But not if I'm broken.</em>
</p><p>The musical accompaniment in Zoey’s head was a simple piano and nothing else, but to Max, all her heard was her vocals, raw and straight from her soul.</p><p>She almost wished she had a piano, so that he could play it and hear the piano part of this song.</p><p><em>Her</em> song.</p><p>
  <em> And I know that you love me but I don't think I'm ready</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Found me in a bottle</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I thought I needed someone I could run to</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, run to, oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Promise this'll be the worst of it</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hope I didn't break the best of you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Cause it could've worked if I was heartless</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But let me be honest</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I know that you love me but I don't think I'm ready</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Found me in a bottle</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I thought I needed someone I could run to</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, run to, oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>There was no choreography, just Zoey, standing next to the couch, singing her heart out to Max, both against her will and <em>exactly</em> what she wanted.</p><p>After getting her power, she’d read a quote somewhere that said that when there were no more words, you sung. She’d gained a new appreciation for musical theatre, as it expressed the emotions of it’s characters the way Zoey’s life was.</p><p>Well, she’d run out of words. It might not even be a glitch like last time, because this was at this point, pretty much voluntary.</p><p>
  <em>Wish I didn't have to say goodbye</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I know you see it in my eyes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I don't know how to make it right</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Cause I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I know that you love me but I don't think I'm ready</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Found me in a bottle</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I thought I needed someone I could run to</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, run to, oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need healing.</em>
</p><p>Max stared at her, mouth open.</p><p>“Get out,” Zoey said, voice choked with sudden tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ll call you after things calm down at work... right now, I need healing.”</p><p>“Zoey, I-“</p><p>“<em>Don’t!</em>” Zoey cried, a single rebellious tear escaping out. “Just <em>go.</em>”</p><p>Max left quietly, but as he walked down the stairs, Zoey heard his song in perfect quality, like he was still here.</p><p>
  <em>You say there's so much you don't know</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You need to go and find yourself</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You say you'd rather be alone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Cause you think you won't find it tied to someone else</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ooh, who said it's true</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That the growing only happens on your own?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They don't know me and you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't think you have to leave</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If to change is what you need</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can change right next to me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When you're high, I'll take the lows</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can ebb and I can flow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And we'll take it slow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And grow as we go</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grow as we go.</em>
</p><p>Something willed Zoey to go to her bedroom windows, to draw open the curtains, even though the light hurt her eyes and head.</p><p>Max was standing on the sidewalk, across the street from Zoey’s building, looking up to her building, to her window, as he sung to her, to her heart. </p><p>She had the feeling, though, that he couldn’t actually see her watching him, like when he’d sang Walk 500 Miles. Still, she couldn’t help herself from beginning to actually cry.</p><p>
  <em>You won't be the only one</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am unfinished, I've got so much left to learn</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't know how this river runs</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I'd like the company through every twist and turn</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ooh, who said it's true</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That the growing only happens on your own?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They don't know me and you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don't ever have to leave</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If to change is what you need</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can change right next to me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When you're high, I'll take the lows</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can ebb and I can flow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And we'll take it slow</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And grow as we go</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grow as we go</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grow as we go</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grow as we go.</em>
</p><p>Zoey shut her curtains.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>soooo........ she told the truth at least? *puts on my bulletproof vest*</p><p> </p><p>even if im murdered you HAVE to admit skylar astin singing grow as we go would be ~flawless~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Twenty-Second Day, Part One (And Some Flashbacks And A Drastic Turn Of Events)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The big day of the board meeting arrives, and things quickly begin to go horribly wrong.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this starts out not the cutest but then we kick start some cute campy fun and adventure that we’ll have for a few chapters... so overall not tooooo much to murder me over? no heartsongs either.</p><p>there IS another self harm tw in this chapter, this one’s somewhat worse than before, i would suggest skipping to when the big block of italic text starts (it’s hard to miss it :P)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Unfortunately, burning herself with a goddamn lighter was not a one time incident.</p><p>Zoey had done it in the afternoon after her ‘fight’ of sorts with Max (she really wasn’t sure exactly <em>what</em> to call it; she’d kicked him out after he was pretty much done being mad; but they had exchanged words at a volume above a normal speaking voice before that). She marked her other shoulder at 1:36 in the afternoon, only a few hours after she’d kicked Max out.</p><p>Just one mark. And then she’d spent the day tweaking the code, after finding a couple of genuinely bad issues they’d missed before.</p><p>Well, the next day was Sunday, which she spent with her mother, helping her weed and plant in her vegetable garden, and also in the flower garden part, and hiding the burns on her shoulders, and then watching ANTM with her mom while fixing the bunch of mildly major things in the code that she’d discovered. That alone took four hours and five episodes of America’s Next Top Model. </p><p>When she’d gotten home, late at night, still covered in dirt, and checked her phone for the first time that day to see a text from Max, asking her to call him whenever he was ready, she ignored it and added another mark on the shoulder that had previously only had one.</p><p>Just to be even.</p><p>It was just to be even when she put another one on both shoulders after that, on Monday morning, getting ready for work. Three on each.</p><p>They looked ugly and gross and stupid and horrible and Zoey could not help herself from feeling amazingly <em>good</em> and <em>relieved</em> when she did it. It was a sick feeling at first, but faded into relaxation.</p><p>It was like a drug, a horrible, horrible drug. </p><p>At least meth would’ve increased her functionality. Burning her shoulders just gave her a high the length of smoking a cigarette- not that she’d know firsthand how long a high lasted from a cigarette.</p><p>Zoey had never been addicted to anything. She’d had that one incident in college, when she was stressed from all her responsibilities finally crashing down on her, and her girlfriend at the time giving her four Adderall.</p><p>Her family didn’t know how much Adderall she’d had in her system when she’d had a panic attack in the middle of class, had to be driven home for the night, and physically couldn’t speak until that morning.</p><p>
  <em>Zoey stood on the curb, arms wrapped around her middle, hugging herself. She could physically feel how huge the dark circles under her eyes were, and how jittery and lightheaded she was was making her head spin as she waited here for her dad.</em>
</p><p><em>She wasn’t able to breathe in class. Zoey had been staring at the board, trying to make sense of everything as all of everything that she had to do slowly overwhelmed her, and then all at once crashing down on her, and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor, her lungs were burning, and someone was shouting at her to</em> breathe.</p><p><em>”I can’t!” It had taken her awhile to remember- to</em> realise, <em> that those were her words. That she had spoken them.</em></p><p>
  <em>According to Jemma, she’d fallen onto her hands and knees hyperventilating, and the kid next to her, Sean, had rubbed her back and urged her to breathe, until she finally breathed and curled up into a ball on the floor in a royal blue sweater, the collar of a pink button down sticking out of the top, and her sparkly black leggings. They were dirty and dusty after she’d rolled around on the dirty floor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The professor had gotten her to the infirmary, where they’d called her parents. At the time, miracle of all miracles, they had briefly moved to Pittsburgh for work, trying to turn the flower shop into a franchise. It never actually turned out to be anything, and they only lived there for six weeks before they went back to California.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The nurse had told her in a sickly sweet voice to go wait on the corner, by the curb, her dad would be picking her up. The nurse made an almost disgusted face at her when she didn’t say anything. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoey dragged herself up, physically unable to speak and mad that the nurse was so disgusted with her, but too tired to shoot the nurse a look for being rude, so she just slunk to the curb, shaking like a leaf from all the Adderall still in her system.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She had ADHD and was fairly certain she had autism (but they’d never gotten a diagnosis on that one; still wincing on the money spent while trying to diagnose her with ADHD) but she didn’t take anything for it. Jemma took Adderall, and Jemma was her girlfriend, so Zoey trusted her when she’d said that she’d feel much better.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Clearly, the trust had been misplaced, because if anything, it had exacerbated how bad her mental state had already been, and led to a complete meltdown in her calculus class.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And now Zoey was ashamed, shaking, and still woefully lightheaded and dizzy and confused and hungry and unable to make words come out of her mouth. She was a nice burrito of Messed Up, at that moment.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, that all-too familiar beige 2003 Toyota Camry rolled up to her, her father at the wheel. Zoey hesitated, but slowly stepped forward, opening the passenger side door and stepping in at a glacial pace. Which made her wonder if her dad would get annoyed at her with how slow she was going, but also she didn’t really have it in her to go any faster. Her dad was quiet the whole time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally, she buckled up, and he turned on the radio, letting 90s On 99.3 drown out the silent song of his daughter’s sorrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How do you feel about a Blizzard? My treat, Zoey Bug.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Zoey stared at him, barely able to suppress the urge to gape. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d prepared herself mentally to have him yell at her, or be extremely disappointed and make her squirm in her skin- not to be given ice cream.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She opened her mouth and nothing came out, which kinda pissed her off.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Look, kid... it happens. I think you expect me to be upset, and I don’t know why... you got overwhelmed? So what? And you’re nonverbal, not broken, and I read enough books on psychology when I was in college trying to be a therapist- see how well that turned out- to know that that happens. Especially because you’re nerodivergent. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed that you expect me to yell at you- not disappointed at you, but at me. So how about we share some mint Oreo Blizzards and you can sleep at quote unquote home tonight?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He... he loved her so much. He looked at her with obvious just... just love. And caring. And adoration. For his daughter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And Zoey cried like a baby, and then gobbled down a Blizzard and slept for nine hours.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’d expected him to yell at her for not being able to handle college... and he’d shown her how wrong she was, and how much he cared.</em>
</p><p>And now, remembering that, Zoey collapsed, albeit briefly, into a puddle of tears.</p><p>Zoey missed her dad so much it <em>hurt</em>. If he could take her out for one more Blizzard and some advice, she would do anything. Anything in the world.</p><p>He’d told her to <em>listen.</em> She was listening! She couldn’t hear her own heart... but she was listening to the universe. Just because she was dealing with too much to deal with the fact that her boss was singing songs about liars to herself, didn’t mean she wasn’t <em>listening.</em></p><p>“I need you!” Zoey cried, from her little ball on the floor. She was on her knees, arms wrapped around her middle in a desperate hug of herself, leaning forward, almost as if she was going to throw up.</p><p>She waited.</p><p>Why couldn’t these songs just... come when she actually wanted them to? Not when it was convenient for everyone <em>else.</em> She was the one who had to deal with it... was it so much to ask for to have her dad sing to her? She didn’t know if it would work... him being dead and all... but she was so very sorry, was it <em>so</em> much to ask for? With how fucking destroyed she was right now... didn’t she at least deserve <em>that?</em></p><p>She waited.</p><p>He never arrived.</p><p>_____________________</p><p>Zoey arrived at work bright and early, at seven thirty in the morning (even if technically she didn’t start work until nine) and began going over the code, making sure everything was in tip top shape for any demonstrations that needed to be made.</p><p>Eventually, everyone else began to arrive (including Charlie, who was humming White Liar, annoyingly- no, infuriatingly). Zoey had dressed extremely nice that day, in a red suit that yes, she did own, and as everyone passed by her desk... they could not stop complimenting her</p><p>All that she had done was put on a red suit, brushed her hair, and put on the shoes that Joan had given her, and a black button down under the suit jacket. But apparently everyone thought she was hot stuff in the suit. Which was annoying, because people complimenting her was something that Zoey couldn’t handle.</p><p>When Simon arrived and wandered over to her desk, he looked... visibly impressed with her.</p><p>“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Zoey grumbled, at this point pretty damn annoyed with everyone incessantly complimenting her. It was a freaking suit! The person in it hadn’t changed... she was still a screw up.</p><p>Simon looked a little bit taken aback, but quickly recovered. “I take it I’m not the only one who thinks you look pretty damn baller?”</p><p>“It’s just a suit... I don’t understand why suddenly people are falling all over themselves over me.”</p><p>“Because, pardon my language, you look hot, Zoey. It gives you this big, dominating boss vibe- which I know is not the vibe you want- but it’s hot. And it’ll work wonders on that board of directors, I’m sure of it.” </p><p>Zoey giggled at how <em>enthusiastic</em> Simon was about it. “Someone sounds <em>extremely</em> into that.”</p><p>Simon had a slightly embarrassed smile to offer her, which Zoey was fine with. It was kinda cute, actually. </p><p>“Pardon my language, Miss Clarke... but that suit has big dick energy.”</p><p>Both Zoey and several people around her laughed out loud.</p><p>It was... a genuine laugh. And a shared one, too... and not aimed at her. Hopefully. Zoey tried not to let her crippling anxiety ruin the moment... because she’d just smiled and laughed. Zoey from a few hours ago would have balked.</p><p>As eleven grew closer Zoey got up and went to the bathroom, )at 10:12 AM exactly, actually), just to make sure she looked okay, and not like someone who was having a lot of not sleeping and a lot of not eating, and that her clothes were not revealing the burn marks on her shoulders.</p><p>Which they weren’t. She was wearing a long sleeved black button down and a red suit jacket. Not a halter top, with the red marks circled in sharpie and a giant sandwich board stapled to her ass reading ‘LOOK AT ME, I SELF HARMED!’ </p><p>But it felt like she was wearing that sandwich board, anyway, even if it was a figment of her overactive imagination.</p><p>She pressed her hair down with some water, took a deep breath, and went back to her desk.</p><p>Going back to reviewing the code, she saw something that she was... fairly certain hadn’t been there when she’d gotten up. Some line of code that she did <em>not</em> recognise, that she was very, very certain, now that she examined it, that wasn’t there before.</p><p>“Hey, Leif?” Zoey said slowly.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Do you have an old save of the code on your computer? I know that you’re neurotic about having old saves on hand... it might just come in handy right now.”</p><p>“Oh, god,” Leif said, fingers moving fast now, as he clicked out of whatever he had been doing. “How old of a save do you need?”</p><p>“Did you open the code today?”</p><p>“No, not yet.”</p><p>“Good. Go to your save from Friday. I edited a couple tags over the weekend, nothing major... but I think someone did something major.”</p><p>Zoey’s mouth was speaking before her brain, her brain currently unable to process the ifs, the whys, and the implications of a line of seemingly foreign code randomly popping up.</p><p>Leif hurried to get to his old save, and brought his laptop over to Zoey’s desk. “What do you need to look at?”</p><p>Zoey pointed at the line of code in question. “Does that look familiar to you?”</p><p>Leif tilted his head. “Not at all... you didn’t put that in?”</p><p>“No, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t there before I went to the bathroom. Did anyone mess with my computer while I was in then bathroom? Fuck, I bet I shouldn’t have left it open...”</p><p>“Nobody touched it, to my knowledge,” Leif said, scrolling down on the code on his laptop. “Lemme see if it’s there on this save.”</p><p>An agonising full minute later, Leif came upon the section in question, and wordlessly turned the screen towards Zoey.</p><p>The string of code wasn’t there.</p><p>And what’s worse, the realisation of what kind of code this was had just hit her.</p><p>“This is... this is a virus, isn’t it?” Zoey asked numbly.</p><p>Leif looked at it... and slowly nodded.</p><p>“Tobin, Tulsi, Greg... everyone! All the coders! Get over here!” Zoey yelled, not even caring about the growing panic and panic tears in her voice.</p><p>But it worked, a panicked Zoey in a suit certainly brought the coders over to her.</p><p>Zoey pointed at the piece of code. “Please... please tell me you at least know where that came from,” she said, her voice even more panicked now. The weight of it was slowly dawning on her.</p><p>They’d worked on this code for two months... and this one line of code was spawning tiny little pieces of code into random lines of code that made it all do either nothing or something that you didn’t want it to do. In fact... it’d probably already finished spawning. Two months of work... to remove all the damage would take at least a day with several people working on it.</p><p>It was like a sick, sick prank. It was so obviously <em>petty</em>... and it was becoming apparent that it was a deliberate attempt to sabotage them. Temporary sabotage... but sabotage all the same.</p><p>Zoey made an upset frustrated sound, like an ‘ugh!’ and just a tearful groan had had wild sex and produced a baby, and that baby was that sound. She’d made it at the party, after her mom had called and the flowers had gone up in flames- along with Simon and Jessica’s relationship.</p><p>Nobody knew where it came from.</p><p>Zoey picked up the laptop, and with Leif, Tobin, and the entire fourth floor coding team, they all went upstairs, ignoring Charlie asking what was going on.</p><p>Zoey full out ran to Hannah’s desk, almost slapping her laptop down in front of her. “Please tell me that this isn’t you guys.” She knew she was about to cry, and she had a giant lump in her throat and a probably very hysterical expression. Which was not fair! Someone else had better cry so that she wouldn’t look like she was overreacting.</p><p>It was, probably, partially because she hadn’t eaten since Max’s eggs and she was lightheaded and dizzy, as was normal for her nowadays. But also because this was <em>months</em> of work towards this one thing, and someone had pettily sabotaged them on the day of their presentation to the board. This wouldn’t look good on them as a group, or on any of them as individuals. People could be fired, the project they’d sunk so much into could be cancelled.</p><p>Because of one string of code!</p><p>Hannah studied it, and panic filled her face. “That’s a virus! I don’t think we put that in... everyone, get over here!”</p><p>Just like downstairs, everyone crowded around the laptop, and nobody laid claim to having put in the line.</p><p>“We have an old save, right?” Hannah asked frantically.</p><p>“Leif has one from Friday, but I fixed several things over the weekend... there would be some things that wouldn’t work quite right if we used that save, and I spent hours and hours over the weekend on those fixes.”</p><p>“We have about fifteen minutes... could we do it?” Hannah asked. She and Zoey both exchanged a look... they both knew that it was impossible to find all the issues and fix them, between all the things Zoey had fixed over the weekend and everything the virus had done, even with thirty people.</p><p>“So we postpone it?” Hannah asked.</p><p>“That wouldn’t look good on us... no. Let’s do our best... see how much we can fix. Okay? We can... we can probably do this. Let’s just focus on the major things!” Zoey suggested frantically.</p><p>Hannah nodded quickly, and the two and their teams didn’t even really bother moving, just got out laptops right where they were, and went to work trying to get the code to a usable state. But at this point, it was pretty futile. They were wrecked.</p><p>Hannah pulled Zoey aside after just a couple minutes. “I don’t want to postpone any more than you do, but if we postpone until tomorrow-“</p><p>“The board has to see the eighth floor’s ID chip that you put into your wrist tomorrow. That’s not even accounting for the bazillion other meetings... I talked to Joan a few days ago, even before she rescheduled us to today. I suspect that part of why we got moved up was something came up on the day we were supposed to do it. If we reschedule we could be pushed back weeks... which screws up the timeline.”</p><p>Hannah hesitated, but slowly nodded. “We have to tell them that someone placed this virus in... it’s clearly petty sabotage. I don’t care if that reflects badly on us... we have to present this goddamn project and then get approved.”</p><p>It was Zoey’s turn to hesitate. “We could get fired... or other people. I think Ava has it out for Leif or something... also probably me. Also Joan. And this is Joan’s project, and Ava doesn’t like that Joan was chosen over here... I think Ava would use this as an excuse to get this cancelled.”</p><p>“Why would you think that? I know there’s feuding between them, but-“</p><p>“Because they had a fight and they don’t know I saw it,” Zoey blurred out. She was <em>very</em> thankful that she and Hannah were off to the side, out of earshot of everyone else. “And Ava basically flat out said that she was going to spearhead some sort of coup or something... and that... don’t tell anyone about any of it... Ava was sleeping with Danny Michael Davis.”</p><p>Hannah’s mouth dropped open.</p><p>“You can’t tell anyone! But Ava said that she didn’t trust my leadership because my dad had just died, and said you would’ve been better for taking up Joan’s job- honestly you probably would’ve, you at least would be better than me- and Ava also said that she would try and get Joan ousted, and that Joan couldn’t fire here because Danny Michael Davis would hire her back. Ava said it, point blank.”</p><p>Hannah kept gaping.</p><p>“Do you think... do you think it was Ava, then?”</p><p>Zoey’s heart sunk.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands and my body lives another day</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Twenty-Second Day, Part Two (And How Stupid Two People Act When They Realise They Did A Stupid)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ava and Charlie interrupt the board meeting and a couple of songs are sung.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heartsongs in this chapter include:</p><p><b>partners in crime</b> by set it off</p><p><b>dancing with a wolf</b> by all time low</p><p>id say sorry for the chapter drought but actually yall were getting one a day and i took several days to write this one which i personally think is fine... sooo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey on Friday was confident with her work and the work of her team, and felt like she was ready to present to the board.</p><p>Zoey on Saturday and Sunday felt the same... Zoey this morning felt the same.</p><p>Zoey an hour ago had felt the same.</p><p>And now she literally had a petty little virus out of nowhere that made almost everything unusable.</p><p>The two teams had become one, and they had quickly split up sections of code amongst and got to work fixing what the virus had done, but even with all those people, it was an all encompassing task that would normally take close to a day. And even if right now was not normal... that part was still normal.</p><p>There was no way they were going to be done in time.</p><p>Five minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start, they called it, and everyone sadly carried their posters on corrugated plastic and their projector and screen and their laptops up to the fifteenth floor.</p><p>The fifteenth floor was a wonderland of isolation pods, an array of swing sets, and a gaggle of nervous executives typing madly away at their computers.</p><p>Charlie and Ava led the way, heels clicking on the shimmering floor. It wasn’t just shimmering... it was <em>holographic.</em> It looked like when you moved the bottom of a DVD around in the light- all rainbow-y, shifting with the light. Honestly, it was pretty cool... but she wasn’t sure if she’d want to deal with that all day.</p><p>Charlie and Ava led them into the board room, a huge long room completely enclosed in glass, like a box, with a full coffee bar, and a long, glass table with the chairs... attached to the table. They were glass, too, sculpted in a curve that was shaped pretty well for a human, surprisingly large, even if it felt like a school desk where the desk was attached to the chair. </p><p>But, uh... freaky. </p><p>“Has anyone ever broken this thing?” Tobin joked to the waiting execs... and a familiar face at the head of this terror table. Joan. Oh, thank god... Zoey never thought there’d come a day where she’d be thankful, actually, downright <em>excited</em> to see Joan, but that day had arrived.</p><p>The table had twenty six seats, thirteen on each side (probably a bad omen), which meant that most everyone had to stand. Hannah, Zoey, and Tobin and Leif and Hannah’s right hand man Ethan all got seats, as well as Charlie and Ava. The rest of the seats were filled with execs and board members, many of which Zoey had never even seen before. Some were part of Danny Michael Davis’ posse, others weren’t.</p><p>Once everyone was seated, Joan nodded to Zoey. Zoey was lead programmer with Leif on this project, and Zoey and Hannah were presenting the PowerPoint, before Leif would.... would hopefully demonstrate.</p><p>She didn’t miss how everyone was still on their laptops, even as they stood against the glass walls, even as the executives looked oddly at them from over their own laptop screens.</p><p>Zoey stood up, and proceeded to the projector and the stands with her posters on them. She took a deep breath, straightened her jacket, and began.</p><p>“Have you ever felt pressure in social situations, trying to remember people’s names, and facts that you <em>should</em> know, but can’t remember for the life of you? Well, you’re not alone. And luckily... the Chirp is here to help.”</p><p>Zoey clicked on the projector, and her PowerPoint flickered onto the screen.</p><p>Zoey walked through the benefits and functionality and timeline with Hannah, a twenty minute presentation that had her sweating in her little red suit every time she looked away from Joan and looked at those execs. Their poker faces were... excellent.</p><p>Zoey improvised a bit at the end of her presentation. She was supposed to introduce Leif and tell them that he was going to demonstrate the device, but she went off script a bit.</p><p>“Unfortunately, someone slipped a small virus into our system via my computer this morning, which added small pieces to our code that rendered large bits unusable. Thankfully, our team is committed and passionate, and they have been working even as I speak to give you our best demonstration possible. A simple, petty prank does not deter us!”</p><p>Zoey took a breath to continue, to announce Leif and have him take over, but Ava stood up.</p><p>“If I may- I believe that this virus was a deliberate attempts by both floors to sabotage this project- because everyone is bored with it, and it’s a waste.”</p><p>Zoey locked eyes with Hannah.</p><p>This was <em>war.</em></p><p>“That’s completely untrue!” Zoey retorted. “Allow Leif to demonstrate, please hold in your personal reservations about Joan’s project and leadership until our presentation is complete.”</p><p><em>Several- </em>, no, <em>many</em> of the people in the room were staring at her, mouths agape.</p><p>But even without a song, she was pretty damn sure it was <em>awe</em> and <em>admiration</em> for snapping back at Ava so fast, and so assertively.</p><p>“Yes. Zoey, continue,” Joan said slowly. A twinkle in Joan’s eye silently thanked her, and Zoey subtly smiled.</p><p>“No! I won’t be silent any longer!” Ava cried, standing up.</p><p>Gasps ricocheted around the room like they had been shot from a gun, bouncing around the glass walls.</p><p>“My team is tired of this. This is not what we should be doing! This is a waste of company time, a waste of resources and money, and my team is bored. Joan’s project is a flop.”</p><p>“Prove it,” Zoey said simply.</p><p>Ava stared at her.</p><p>“If you have the balls to ruin this board presentation... prove it. You and Joan can look up login logs together. It’ll show if the computer was logged into remotely, probably using an admin password only known to floor bosses. If not? Check the security tapes. We know it originated on my computer, so let’s see who was on it. And isn’t tampering with our code with malicious intent grounds for dismissal? So, surely, we’d want to know who did it,” Zoey said, cool and sweet.</p><p>Her cool and chill demeanour was a front, though, for growing panic in her little red suit.</p><p>“Why would we do that?” Charlie asked. “It’s clear someone on this team did it... who else?”</p><p>“If you and Ava it fit to interrupt this meeting with slander and lies, let’s see if the lies hold any truth, and who <em>actually</em> placed the virus.”</p><p>Zoey looked at Joan.</p><p>“Um... I trust Zoey. So I think I’ll be looking at the login logs right about now,” Joan said. </p><p>“How will we know you aren’t mishandling the logs, and that <em>you</em> didn’t place the virus?” Charlie cried in dissent.</p><p>“I think that’s a pretty ludicrous statement... but it makes you feel any better, I’ll have Cece and Rick watch me while I go to the login logs for Zoey’s computer, who have clearance to do so. And I’ll share my findings with the rest of this little party. Zoey... uh, sit down,” Joan said, waving at her to dismiss her.</p><p>Zoey sat back down at her place at the table, rubbing her temples slowly and frustratedly. This was taking entirely too long, and so far , it’d gone fine.</p><p>But it did give the teams time to debug the code, fingers a blur on this side of the table. They’d kept working even during her speech and her argument with Ava and Charlie, which was a level of devoted that she admired.</p><p>But Charlie and Ava were scheming little snakes... and of course, they broke into song.</p><p>You'll never take us alive, Charlie sung to begin, taunting Charlie as she stood up on the glass table. She bent down in her little black pumps, and helped Ava up onto the table, Ava, who sung the next line.</p><p>
  <em>We swore that death will do us part</em>
</p><p><em>They'll call our crimes a work of art</em>, Ava sung, getting onto the table with Charlie and beginning a fast paced, jerky ballroom style dance with Charlie, on top of the table. The people around them abandoned their laptops and paired up, only Joan and Zoey abstaining from the dances around the table, fast dips and spins and whips.</p><p>Charlie and Ava danced dangerously close to Zoey, heels clicking on the glass table.</p><p><em>You'll never take us alive,</em> Charlie joined back in, before both of them squatted down to Zoey’s eye level, flicking her head. The two sang the next line together, harmonising eerily.</p><p>
  <em>We'll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Partners in crime</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Partners in crime!</em>
</p><p>The fast paced violins and guitars kicked in, and the dances got faster, Charlie and Ava especially swinging around the table, like someone sped up a video of a ballroom dance. The people around the tables began dancing like raving rock ‘n roll fans, head banging and playing air guitars as they hopped around to the music.</p><p>
  <em>This, the tale of reckless love, living a life of crime on the run,</em>
</p><p><em>I brush to a gun to paint these states green and red,</em> sung Ava.</p><p>
  <em>Everybody freeze, nobody move, put the money in the bag</em>
</p><p><em> Or we will shoot,</em> Charlie added, before the two went back to harmonies. The dance was getting more aggressive, and Zoey hopped out of her seat, backing up against the walls of this glass prison.</p><p>
  <em>Empty out the vault and me and my doll will be on our way,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Our paper faces flood the streets,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And if the heat comes close enough to burn then we'll play with fire 'cause...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You'll never take us alive</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We swore that death will do us part.</em>
</p><p>The crowd seemed to swell, getting bigger and bigger and the room getting smaller and smaller. Zoey pressed up against the wall harder, and steadied her breathing as the crowds began to crowd her in- well, tried to steady her breathing, anyway.</p><p>
  <em>They'll call our crimes a work of art</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You'll never take us alive</em>
</p><p><em>We'll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners.</em> </p><p>The crowds moved closer, pushing her in, surrounding her. She felt the emotions that led to a panic attack build up in her lungs, her brain, her heart. She had to remind herself that this scarily aggressive choreography was just choreography.</p><p>Choreography meant to make her feel isolated, just like Charlie and Ava wanted.</p><p>
  <em>Partners in crime</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Partners in crime!</em>
</p><p>At this point, everyone had surrounded Zoey, and Zoey couldn’t suppress a few very fast breaths that resembled hyperventilation pretty closely.</p><p><em>Oh, just try and catch us!</em> Ava mocked, pulling her forward and tripping her, knocking her off her feet.</p><p>Zoey was on her hands and knees, the world spinning around her, and the violins and electric guitars and the stamps of people’s feet seemed to mock her.</p><p>And then she was back in her chair, fingers still on her temples.</p><p>She breathed out.</p><p>How in the <em>heck</em> was she going to get through this without some sort of massive panic attack?</p><p>_________________</p><p>Two minutes later, Joan swung her laptop around to the rest of the table.</p><p>“There. Plain as day. An admin login, Ava’s admin login code, was used on Zoey’s computer from Ava’s computer on the sixth floor,” Joan said triumphantly.</p><p>“Oh, so you tampered with it to throw Ava under the bus, because you hate her,” Charlie sniped.</p><p>“This is insubordination!” Joan snapped, walking personally over to Zoey to show her.</p><p>And there it was. A simple log, saying that 6FBOSS had used an admin password (that was redacted) on Zoey’s computer, 4F554. It was like a hex code, except it very much wasn’t.</p><p>“So you’re showing Zoey personally, how about you parade the computer over to us two?” Ava snapped.</p><p>“Because Zoey suggested we look at login logs... and she was correct. You tampered with the code, you basically broke into her computer with misuse of an admin password, all because you seem to very much want this project to fail. And then you threw your whole team under the bus!” Joan said, slamming her hands on the table to punctuate her point.</p><p>“You’re making this personal when it doesn’t have to be, Joan!” Ava shouted.</p><p>“The whole motivation was personal for you, because you were sleeping with Danny Michael Davis!”</p><p>The cry did not come from Zoey- but her head whipped around to lock eyes with Hannah as her brain slowly pieced together the voice behind the words, so panicked it was slowed down tremendously. Either that, or everything was moving in slow motion.</p><p>Hannah shook her head slightly, and Zoey’s brain finally put together who had just said it.</p><p>She turned her head slowly towards <em>Tobin.</em></p><p>Tobin was obviously, at this point, enraged, but everyone around him- everyone in the room- was in absolute shock, staring at him, mouths agape.</p><p>Except for Ava... who was so obviously livid Zoey wondered if smoke would start pouring out of her ears.</p><p>Tobin was unfazed... and Zoey wondered if Hannah had said something to someone, or- actually, it must’ve been <em>Zoey</em> who let it all slip, and it was her fault and now Tobin was going to say so and she’d loose her job-</p><p>“I went down to the sixth floor around six or seven at night one day, we were all working late on the fourth floor, and nobody on the sixth besides Hannah. Hannah was at the sixth floor coffee bar, I found her and told her what I needed to tell her, and then I need to take a piss, okay? So I go to the men’s bathroom, and there’s Ava and Danny, doing the deed. I think I got out of there so fast they didn’t notice me... otherwise I probably wouldn’t work here anymore. I think this whole thing is just Ava being all butthurt- pardon my language- about Joan getting the promotion and not Ava.”</p><p>Everyone’s gaze turned slowly from Tobin, over to Ava.</p><p>“It’s lies! You’re all out to get me!” Ava cried, after a lengthy pause. But the look on her face and the panic in her voice did not match her words.</p><p>“I don’t think you need to be working here, anymore, then, Ava, because first you purposefully sabotage a project and then throw your own team under the bus, and then it comes to light that your whole motivation is because you’re jealous... I don’t think your services are needed here any longer. And Charlie... you may leave this room, and wait until I’m done for me to have a little chat with you.”</p><p>Ava huffed and stomped out, and Charlie held her ground for a moment- but deflated.</p><p>“This is too much trouble... all for nothing. I quit.”</p><p>Her heels clicking on the glass floor were the only sound as Charlie, too, left. </p><p>But something told Zoey that <em>this was not the end.</em></p><p>They would be back. Both of them.</p><p>“Now,” Joan said tiredly, sifting slowly back down in her chair. “Are you all good to go for demonstrations?”</p><p>“I think so,” Leif said, almost giddily. Probably a mix of having fixed the code and Ava and Charlie being fired.</p><p>Leif stood up and began demonstrations, but all that Zoey heard was Ava’s voice, Charlie’s voice... and Joan’s voice. Charlie and Ava weren’t even here anymore... but the three sang in unison.</p><p>
  <em>Who's gonna listen when you run out of lies?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who's gonna hear you, when your words seem worthless?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who's gonna save you when you're out of time?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And who's gonna want you, when you're on your knees, begging</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh, please take me at my word, I'm desperate</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I swear, I never meant to hurt no one, no</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, please stay for what it's worth, I'm desperate"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're on your own</em>
</p><p>This song was angry, and she heard the anger from Ava and Charlie’s voices, even though they weren’t here, and the triumph from Joan’s voice.</p><p>
  <em>So don't you call my name</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will take you down</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Should've known that you've been dancing with a wolf</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So don't you call my name</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will take you down</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm not your friend, you burned a bridge</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I chew you up and spit you out</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh woah oh woah oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There's no love for a liar, no love for a liar</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh woah oh woah oh</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There's no love for a liar, no love</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So don't you call my name.</em>
</p><p>“Zoey,” Leif said suddenly, as the song abruptly ended. “Wanna help me demonstrate the facial recognition system that isn’t a facial recognition system, a much more ethical choice?”</p><p>“Sure,” Zoey said, standing up and walking over to Leif, even though her head buzzed angrily.</p><p>She and Leif demonstrated how the Chirp took a picture of her face and cross referenced it with their pictures only browser, and it pulled up Zoey’s social media... her Facebook and Twitter with almost nothing on them, but also articles about her, including one from high school about her winning a huge scholarship for winning a coding competition. A wide eyed and excited Zoey held up her giant poster declaring her as the winner with glee.</p><p>“Aww, that’s adorable,” Joan said.</p><p>“Now, the Chirp learns. It deletes my picture, but it remembers my name, and the questions the user asks, the articles the user browses. Soon, it’ll have a pool of information about me, such as birthdate, age, martial status, et cetera,” Zoey rattled off, almost robotically. She kept just enough emotion in her voice to not be monotone, but the fact that she was still having issues with being too monotone was bothering her. A lot.</p><p>Leif and Zoey finished the presentation, eliciting a round of applause from everyone in that goddamned glass room. </p><p>“Okay, sit down, Zoey, you’re so pale you look like a ghost,” Joan said. “But seriously... it looks great! I think maayyybee one more round of demonstrations would be nice? Can we give you guys twenty minutes to see what you come up with?”</p><p>Zoey sat down slowly, feeling pale, and lightheaded and dreamy, like she was floating. She nodded to Joan.</p><p>“Oh, dear lord... you okay, Zoey?” Joan said, giving her a Look.</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine. Twenty minutes... cool,” Zoey said, standing up.</p><p>The floor tilted up, like a sick trick in a funhouse, and Zoey felt the impact of her body hitting the glass floor before everything went black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>please do not murder me, my tumblr is @team-zoey-has-two-hands</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The Twenty-Second Day, Part Three (And Zoey’s Dumb And Makes Questionable Decisions)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey is forced to chill by Joan, and does some chilling of her own when she gets home.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi yes im back!!!! i have no idea when ill update this again but!!! have chapter</p><p>tw for fainting and mentions of an eating disorder</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey woke up with heads around her like a ring, looking down at her, like when a cartoon character passed out and then woke up on the ground.</p><p>Rather than the supporting characters of Paw Patrol or whatever, she woke up with Tobin, Leif, Hannah, Tulsi, and Joan looking down at her- and, predictably, her face and hair was wet.</p><p>Tobin was the character who would’ve done that.</p><p>“Oh,” Zoey groaned quietly, slowly snaking her hand up to her temple and pressing it there lightly, feeling a pounding headache say hello to her barely awake brain.</p><p>The entire troupe rushed to help, which was overwhelming- all of them wanting to help her sit up, offer her water, in sync but in sync with themselves and not with each other. A few seconds of this was all Zoey needed- she sat up on her own with a low groan of pain and swatted away help, but grabbed a half empty bottle of water from Hannah when offered and chugged it. She was pretty sure the other half was on her face, so she didn’t have any qualms about another mouth potentially having been on it.</p><p>Actually, Tobin had probably taken a swig, dumped a bunch on her, and Hannah or someone had grabbed it before he could get the rest on... but she didn’t care, she was thirsty, so shut up.</p><p>“You okay, Zoey?” Joan was the first one to pop the question, and even if she wasn’t holding up an engagement ring, the answer was definitely <em>no</em>.</p><p>But Zoey just shook her head and took another rough swig of the water, and then shook her head again, one hand still resting on her temple.</p><p>“You took quite a fall, there... we were about to call 911,” Tulsi mentioned, sitting down on the ground next to her. </p><p>Zoey was just trying to get a grasp of the world again- it was like she had been playing pin the tail on the donkey but the people spinning her had been a little too enthusiastic and she’d run into the refreshments table, made it collapse, and stumbled around blindly before passing out fifty feet away from the board, and she wasn’t allowed to have her blindfold removed until she got the tail on the donkey, so she had to figure out where she was.</p><p>She sat up slowly, and saw the glass walls in this hellish conference room, those stupid glass chairs, all full of those nervous executives that would have definitely been those kids in high school who looked like textbook nerds, taped glasses, pocket protectors, headgear... the whole bit. And aaaallll of those people staring at her.</p><p>Once she knew where she was, she felt a bit more centered, but not enough to sit up. She was realizing things around her, like how concerned everyone looked, and how she’d definitely passed out... but in her nice red suit that everyone had complimented on her on. </p><p>If it had to be <em>any</em> of her outfits, it just <em>had</em> to be the one that had to get specially cleaned and made boys and girls fall at her feet and Charlie and Ava quit or whatever the heck they had done.</p><p>There was no way the bug was Charlie, or at least, not <em>just</em> Charlie... and there was no way that that meeting had been the last of them. Ava, the person who had told Joan openly, to her face, that she would stage a coup? There was no way they’d give up that easily.</p><p>“Where... where are we on stuff, guys?” Zoey asked, raising her voice so that all of the people could hear her.</p><p>She was met with bewildered stares and shocked gazes, bewilderment from her team and Hannah’s, and shock from all the executives, including Joan.</p><p>She didn’t exactly blame them... she’d just passed out and she was asking where they were on fixes, barely a care about the fact that she’d knocked her head on a hard glass surface in front of a herd of people. If nothing else, maybe they’d take note of her dedication to this freaking job whenever a higher up position was up for grabs again and offer it to her? </p><p>There was a pause as everyone stared at her, and when she repeated herself, Leif slowly rattled off that they hadn’t done anything yet because they had been concerned for her, and, y’know, she was unconscious, but Zoey wrinkled her face, scooted her butt around to face him, and gave him a look of <em>are you fucking serious?</em></p><p>“...So... we should get back to work on it,” Leif asked slowly, like he had just been born yesterday. </p><p>“Yeah, no duh!” </p><p>The Brogrammers, for the most part, decided that they were going to leave this horrifying conference room- she didn’t blame them, it felt like she was dying in here- and when one Brogrammer went, all of them went, and then Hannah and Tulsi rushed to join them, and Joan was left kneeling on the floor next to Zoey, Zoey, who, for her part, didn’t feel great being left out, but knew that if she tried to code anything right now she would probably just... die. She still felt like she was in a dream, floating around in nothingness, even if it was slightly better and she was slightly connected to reality now that her body had shut down momentarily. </p><p>Joan opened and then handed her a fresh bottle of water, plucking the suddenly empty one from Zoey’s hands, and she nodded in thanks, taking a big sip and then pulling her wet hair back from her face.</p><p>Yeah... Tobin was that guy, Hannah stopped him before he got the whole thing on you.”</p><p>“Figured as much,” Zoey said quietly, dabbing her face dry with the back of her hand, not wanting to do further damage to her suit, as if wet face would do damage to it. </p><p>“Do you maybe want to not be in here? This room gives me anxiety,” Joan suggested, and Zoey nodded vigorously. Even just getting two feet out of this glassy hellhole would be like stepping into heaven at this point.</p><p>“Hey, Andrew? Can you carry her to one of the swing chairs?” Joan asked, turning her head towards the table. A blonde man with a thick beard and... respectable muscles (for a nerd), nodded, came around, and picked Zoey up like it was nothing, bride style, not even with a grunt.</p><p>“You’re light,” he commented, and Zoey didn’t really know why she didn’t blush, because that was, if you could believe it, something she was trying to hide to prevent people from trying to help her or whatever the heck. </p><p>He took her out of the conference room, down a short hallway, and into a space that was about the size of a basketball court, fake grass on the floor like carpet, with swinging chairs like downstairs, adarondack chairs, and beach umbrellas and hammocks, like this was a freaking beach. And there, all of programmers had migrated, typing madly away like their lives depended on it... until they all looked up to gawk at her.</p><p>“Hammock or chair?” Andrew grunted. Zoey took a moment to consider- a hammock would make her appear more weak, which was not something she wanted, but were more comfortable for sure, and a swinging chair would make her look less weak, with the sitting up and all (not that people didn’t sit on them with their backs on the bottom cushion, feet planted on the ground, staring up at the sky asking God why he had forsaken them), but maybe if she-</p><p>“Too late,” Andrew grunted again, and proceeded to gently dump her onto a bright green hammock with neon pink flamingos splattered all over it, and Zoey could only stare up at him and quietly thank him before he was gone, and then Joan had pulled over a patio chair to sit next to her.</p><p>“Joan... why exactly are you following me around? Flattering, I’m sure, but..” honestly, at this point, Zoey couldn’t care less if she said something stupid. She felt too shitty to care.</p><p>“I told everyone as we were going out, you have forty minutes now,” Joan said, rather than actually answer the question. Zoey decided to go with it.</p><p>“That’s good... I don’t think I could do anything right now, though.. my head is spinning.”</p><p>“That’s okay... rest for a sec, Zoey, holy cow... you just passed out,” Joan said, acting a bit motherly but a lot stern and boss-like... in a motherly way, Zoey guessed.</p><p>“I’ll be fine... this happens occasionally.”</p><p>“Wait. Wait wait wait wait... oh, <em>wait</em>,” Joan said, laughing as she progressed through the waits. “You have a condition... and you haven’t told me? Your employer? Zoey, that’s important information... what if you were unconscious for longer than a minute?”</p><p>“I don’t have a condition,” Zoey said slowly, drawing her knees to her chest slowly. Great. Fantastic. She’d dug herself a hole on this one, one that was seven feet deep and six feet tall.... perfect to bury herself in when Joan murdered her. Yes, she would be responsible for her own burial, even while dead.</p><p>“Then what exactly is the issue, Zoey? Because if this just <em>happens</em> and you don’t have anything wrong... well, something’s wrong.” Joan sounded angry, but Zoey knew that it was just her way of voicing concern... didn’t make it hurt any less. Because Zoey <em>really</em> didn’t need people mad at her... or, well... <em>more</em> people mad at her? The pile of people who were mad at her was growing every day.</p><p>“I’m just... stressed. And I didn’t eat much this morning- and it doesn’t happen very often, Joan! I eat fine, I haven’t passed out in years. If I get really into the zone I can forget things... that’s all.” There. That had a sprinkle of the truth with a heavy dollop of lies, but a sprinkle of truth went a long way, just like her high school English teacher had said that just one usage of the word suddenly went a long way.</p><p>Joan looked like she had <em>plenty</em> to say, and even opened her mouth to say it... and then closed it and swallowed whatever she was going to say. Instead, she said, “We’re going to finish this presentation, and then you’re going to go home and get some rest. I don’t want to see you back here tomorrow, either, you hear me?”</p><p>“You’re the CEO... why can’t you just like... get it approved? Genuinely asking, but... what do you need me for?”</p><p>Joan laughed. “I’m sorry, you’re wearing a red suit and you look absolutely amazing, even with your makeup washed off and smeared all over your face with some Deer Park. I need you because you’re the driving force... and you had the balls to stand up to Charlie and Ava.” </p><p>“That’s not the truth, though... like, I know it’s not a totalitarian grip you have on the company, but... there’s no way you can’t push this through without us? Not that I’m trying to shy away from duty, but..”</p><p>“No, I can’t... they want to see as much as they can. And after the stunt that was pulled... we need to make sure their attention is on this project. We need the board to vote on it, to approve further funding and to go ahead and launch this on a schedule.</p><p>“This is your baby, Joan... I’m sorry for all this.”</p><p>“Because it’s your fault that this happened?” Joan laughed a little. “It isn’t, last I checked, Charlie and Ava are capable adults who have full control of their actions... they chose to be insubordinate and disrespectful and betray everyone.” </p><p>“I just.. wish I’d caught this sooner. And, you know, not passed out.”</p><p>“It’s out of your control... so chill. I have to go back there... but, like... cool it. Hell, take a nap if you want, you have forty minutes before you even have to go back.”</p><p>“Thanks, but no thanks... thanks anyway.”</p><p>“Fine, but... rest.”</p><p>With that, Joan got up and walked out, heels clicking once they got off the fake grass, all the way down the hall until Zoey couldn’t see her anymore, peering over the side of her hammock.</p><p>Once she was definitely, Zoey sat up and looked around at the sea of people typing madly away in... whatever the heck this room is.</p><p>“Are... look, guys, I’m sorry for passing out and for being out of this right now... can I ask where we are on this?”</p><p>Tobin rattled off their progress, and Zoey tried to listen, but since apparently her comprehension skills were down, she just nodded and said “Okay.”</p><p>Zoey managed to manage through the period where her team fixed as much as they could and she stared up at the warehouse style ceiling, rocking on the hammock, and managed to stand up and do the final bit of the presentation, and she got applause when she was done.</p><p>Joan told her that she’d done well, that it was likely going to be approved, now could she please go home.</p><p>Blearily, Zoey stumbled home and went to <em>bed.</em></p><p>_______________________</p><p>Waking up came in stages. First, came being technically ‘awake’ but not opening her eyes, and trying to go back to sleep because she didn’t want to face the world.</p><p>But the sun streamed through her window (damn Past Zoey for not closing the curtains before going to bed) and eventually came blinking awake, staring into space for a long time, one leg uncovered by her comforter, but she couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it.</p><p>And eventually, finally, she slowly sat up in bed, sitting there to ride out the buzzing in her ears and the dizziness and the fuzziness in her eyesight, and pieced together what had happened on a slow walk through her apartment.</p><p>She’d come home, taken off her suit and her bra, hanging her suit semi-nicely on the back of a chair and throwing her bra into a corner, one shoe in the front hall and the other somehow under her couch, and she’d pulled on a grey t-shirt with ‘F (X) = |X| - Avoid Negativity’ printed on it in purple ink, and she had collapsed into bed. Evidently, she hadn’t eaten anything... but she knew now that she needed to. Just enough to, you know, <em>not</em> pass out at work.</p><p>Zoey managed to find a microwave burrito in the back of her fridge and she put it in, noting that it was 10am, according to her microwave clock. But she vaguely remembered that Joan told her that she was not, under any circumstances, coming to work tomorrow, so...</p><p>As the microwave buzzed, Zoey fidgeted with the hem of her shirt for a minute, and then elected to trudge to the bathroom, and before she could chicken out of it, turned the shower on to full blast cold, and stepped in, still clothed.</p><p>And suddenly she was awake.</p><p>She laughed, almost hysterically, feeling her whole body recoil from the freezing cold water, but she braced herself on the tiled wall and held herself there, even if she wanted to stumble back away from it. </p><p>Suddenly, she felt much more... <em>alive.</em> There was still a lingering feeling of almost floating, probably because she was kinda starving herself, but... the cold water and her now sopping wet shirt sticking to her skin reminded her that she was still breathing, her heart beating, her blood pumping-</p><p>And her dad was in the ground, decomposing, because he and her mom didn’t believe in embalming, and he hadn’t wanted an open casket, so the last time she’d seen him was when the EMTs had arrived and she’d been pushed out of the room containing his... his dead body. He had looked like he was just sleeping, but she’d heard those rattling final breaths, even though she’d been dancing in the other room... </p><p>But here she was. <em>Alive.</em></p><p>And maybe she didn’t feel great, and she was shivering violently, all over, from the still blasting cold water, but... she had to move on.</p><p>Even though she knew she’d probably go back to feeling like shit pretty soon, right now, in this moment, she laughed... feeling almost okay for a moment.</p><p>She got her hair wet by sticking her face directly in the stream of water, feeling it stream down her face, her eyes closed, and dribble down her jawline, her shoulders.</p><p>Finally, when she was thoroughly wet, she turned off the shower, and stood there for a second, smiling a little, dripping wet. </p><p>Zoey pulled off her clothes and left them in the shower to dry, squeezed out her hair, and stepped out, wrapping herself in a fluffy towel, shivering as she stood in a puddle of water for a few minutes. </p><p>She got dressed in a Princess Leia t-shirt and sweatpants, feeling fresh but comfortable, ate her slightly cooled off burrito on the couch, and called a friend.</p><p>Simon’s phone went to voicemail, and Zoey reminded herself that she was full of nerve today, not chickening out of anything. Even if it was just for today.</p><p>“Hey, Simon... when you get off work... I’d love to talk to you. I feel better now, but... I kinda don’t want to be alone? And I want to talk.”</p><p>She hung up, and sat in the living room with the fan on, keeping it comfortably cold as she dried off, and watched TV until she saw a text from Simon at lunchtime.</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Glad you’re okay, should I stop by after work? [12:12 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Me: You should get to decompress after work first, how about six or seven? I’m just going to binge watch Gilmore Girls today and eat. I’ll make dinner for you. [12:13 PM]</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Simon: Sounds good to me. [12:14 PM]</b>
</p><p>She watched TV peacefully all day, ate a late lunch of several handfuls of baby carrots, and even walked down to the grocery store and bought spaghetti, and had it boiling in a pot of water and sauce heating up in a pot when Simon knocked on the door.</p><p>Zoey didn’t even let him say a word, pulling him in gently by his collar with a smile, and slammed the door shut, pressing him against it and pressing her lips to his.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>pls come to my tumblr, @team-zoey-has-two-hands, and please be patient with me cause my motivation is coming and going in a very fickle and unpredictable way, ill try and update this and other fics again soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The Twenty-Third Day (And Zoey Isn’t A Sad Shit For One Entire Night)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Zoey realizes that making out with Simon is dumb, eats spaghetti, and has a long conversation.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i swear ill put songs in the next chapter djdhbdbdb</p><p>this kiiinda seems like a filler chapter but i promise it’s important in the overall story</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zoey kissed Simon with everything she had in her and, somehow, more.</p><p>He was kissing her back, one hand cupped around her head and pulling her somehow closer, fingers threaded through her hair. His beard scratched her face, and she didn’t <em>care</em>, she just tilted her head to get a better angle as one of her hands found it’s way to his waist.</p><p>They came up for air, finally, and Zoey got to open her eyes and see the look in Simon’s eye of pure... devotion. Intoxication. Like he was getting drunk on her and wanted to keep doing it.</p><p>“If I’d known the purpose of this visit, I would’ve worn something else,” Simon gasped out breathily, a small smile on his face. </p><p>“You look great in everything,” Zoey whispered, and then she pressed herself back onto his lips, and they were full on making out like some desperate high school kids in a locker room again. </p><p>Simon grabbed her hips and rotated them, pressing Zoey up against the door, and moved one hand up to hold her wrist to the door. Embracing her entrapment in him, one she hooked a leg around his legs,  sighing in the most dirty, unholy way.</p><p>The way he <em>looked</em> at her, damnit, as he grabbed her legs and held her up against the wall-</p><p>In the exact same way Max had. The night her dad had died.</p><p>She pulled away, even if the look of hurt on Simon’s face made her moldy want to kill herself. </p><p>He took the hint and let her down, and the two stood there breathing, not really looking at each other, for an almost awkward period of time. They’d gone from full on making out to staring at their shoes... and if that was not the most <em>Zoey Clarke</em> predicament, she didn’t know what was.</p><p>“Are you okay, Zoey?” Simon finally asked, and she felt his eyes upon her, so she forced herself to look up at him. The hurt was gone... now he just looked concerned, and loving... and still intoxicated. In a different way.</p><p>A way that Zoey didn’t know how the fuck to deal with.</p><p>She’d told herself sternly that there would be no relationships... she’d rejected Max’s advances, she’d told both of them there would be no romance... she’d felt bad hanging out with Simon and she hadn’t yet told Max about how she was poly, and she knew he would feel rejected, like a second choice, if she asked him to date her after she’d rejected him, and was already dating Simon. Even without romance involved, she couldn’t hang out with one without feeling guilty about the other... or she just couldn’t hang out with Simon without feeling guilty about Max.</p><p>She had just <em>passed out</em> at work earlier that day because she hadn’t been taking care of herself... and she couldn’t swear that she’d take care of herself now. So how in the hell was she supposed to have a romantic relationship?</p><p>And now poor Simon was going to be strung along, because fucking Zoey Clarke couldn’t make up her mind about whether or not she was going to do something or not. </p><p>“What the <em>hell</em> did I do that for?” Zoey whispered, mostly to herself. And then she realized that Simon could hear her... and that wasn’t a good thing to say after you’d just made out with someone for two minutes.</p><p>“Simon... I... that’s not. That doesn’t mean I don’t... this was a bad thing for me to do,” Zoey stumbled on her words, trying to find a way to phrase this in a way that wasn’t deeply hurtful. “I can’t take care of myself... I shouldn’t be trying to get myself into a romantic relationship right now, and it’s unfair of me to string you along like this.”</p><p>She expected Simon to get upset with her, to yell at her.</p><p>But he just <em>looked</em> at her... like she was the most beautiful girl in the world.</p><p>“It’s okay, Zoey... if you don’t feel good about something, I wouldn’t want you to keep doing it for my sake...”</p><p>“Yeah, but I initiated this,” Zoey said quietly, looking at the ground because she couldn’t face his face full of concern and love.</p><p>Truth be told, she hadn’t really planned on pressing him up against the door and making out with him when she called him... she just wanted to talk to Simon, because he understood how she felt. She hadn’t really thought about making out with him... she’d thought about spaghetti and pouring her heart out to him. Not a full on make out session, for sure.</p><p>“Zoey... are you okay?” Simon was cupping her cheek, and <em>oh</em>, she’d started crying.</p><p>That sucked.</p><p>She brushed his hand off her face and wiped her eyes furiously, still not able to meet his gaze. </p><p>“Zoey, what’s wrong?”</p><p>“Simon... Simon I’m <em>so</em> sorry I did this to you.. you can leave. I can’t have a romantic relationship with anyone right now.”</p><p>“Okay... you can’t. That’s... if you don’t feel you can be involved in a romantic relationship right now, that’s fine. But you’re not okay... and I’m not going to leave unless I know you’re okay.”</p><p>And <em>that</em> was why she was attracted to Simon Haynes. She’d kissed him and then rejected him, and yet he was <em>staying</em> to make sure she was okay... Zoey didn’t really know what she had done to deserve this.</p><p>Finally, she looked up at him, even though what he had just said had rendered her unable to stop sweating through her eyes, and he cupped her cheek again tenderly, wiping away her tears with his thumb.</p><p>“I smell food... we’re gonna eat and talk about this, okay, Zoey?”</p><p>Zoey nodded against his hand, thankful he was taking charge, because she was so... emotionally wrecked. And she didn’t know how to take charge herself right now.</p><p>She and Simon left the foyer, and Simon drained the pasta and Zoey risked taking the lid off the pot with the sauce in it and stirring it, holding her body as far away from the pot as she could to avoid the angry bubbles that had started from her not stirring it for too long.</p><p>Simon rinsed the pasta, and Zoey got out two bowls, and he put the pasta in, and she sauced them. Not talking, but somehow in sync. The silence wasn’t thick or awkward, it was fucking <em>comfortable</em> and it took all Zoey had not to fall to her knees and sob, because damnit, Simon was a wonderful human being.</p><p>She took the fresh bag of mozzarella cheese out of the fridge and sprinkled it over both bowls, and Simon gave her an unimpressed look, took the bag from her, and dumped a mound of cheese on top of his bowl.</p><p>Zoey laughed through residual tears, and he did the same to her bowl, and even stirred them so the cheese would melt, and sealed the bag up and tossed it at her. She caught it, put it back in the drawer, and got out forks.</p><p>They sat at her table, across from each other, almost like they were on a date. For the first few minutes, they still didn’t speak, just quietly eating pasta and enjoying each other’s company.</p><p>“I’m sorry for that,” Zoey said finally, not able to take the silence anymore. It was comfortable, but she was uncomfortably guilty.</p><p>“You’re alright... something’s going on with you and I don’t think you’re... I’m not calling you crazy, but I don’t think you’re functioning on all cylinders. Whether that’s because you passed out, or the reason you passed out..” he trailed off and looked back down at his bowl, slowly twirling some spaghetti around his fork.</p><p>Zoey almost got mad at him, but then decided that 1) who the hell was she to get mad at him when she’d made out with him and then told him she couldn’t be in a romantic relationship with him?, and 2) he probably didn’t mean that she was going insane, probably meant that she was having some sort of reaction because of grief... and/or he had figured out she was a fucking mess.</p><p>Jesus, had she done that bad of a job hiding it?</p><p>“What... what do you mean, I’m not working on all cylinders?” Zoey asked slowly, trying to feel him out. If he didn’t know anything about her shitty mental health, she didn’t plan on letting him know anything now.</p><p>“You’re grieving, Zoey... and not coping well. I know the feeling... I did it myself. And you were there for me, so this time, I’m here for you. So if you have anything you wanna get off your chest, consider this a judgement free zone.”</p><p>She mulled over it for a minute... she didn’t exactly want to reveal to him that she was physically hurting herself to cope, or that she barely ate anything anymore, and that she felt distant from her family for literally no reason... so what could she safely admit?</p><p>“I don’t think this is what you really wanted to hear, but I don’t know if my relationship with Max is necessarily healthy,” she blurted out. She hadn’t even <em>thought</em> about that before she blurted it out... where the hell had this come from?</p><p>But the more she thought about it in that brief space of time... okay, it made sense that she had said that.</p><p>“What makes you say that?”</p><p>“He... I can’t confide in him very well anymore, or hang out with other people without feeling guilty... and he’s mad at me for some reason right now.”</p><p>“Your dad died a few weeks ago... and he’s mad at you at <em>this</em> time? Unless you murdered someone or slept with his girlfriend... I don’t think there’s any good reason for that.”</p><p>“I... I told him I couldn’t hang out with him one day and he wasn’t pleased... and I didn’t realize up until now that that’s maybe not a very healthy dynamic.” She chose not to reveal, at least in that moment, what had gone down the other day with her rejecting his advances. God, had that really only been two days ago? It felt like it had been three months since that happened.</p><p>“Is that all of it, though?”</p><p>Okay, fuck what she had <em>just</em> told herself... she needed to get this off her chest.</p><p>“I rejected his advances... I didn’t initiate anything with him, he did. And I told him no, that I needed to heal... and I kinda... sang my feelings to him?”</p><p>“Two things... one, that doesn’t sound very healthy, especially right now when you need him most, you shouldn’t try and make a move while you’re this emotionally compromised- which is why I’m not mad at you- and two... you sang to him?”</p><p>“The words didn’t reach,” Zoey said simply, deciding to leave <em>that</em> secret untold. The only people who knew were Max and Mo... Max, who wasn’t speaking to her now. She’d only told him because she’d hurt his feelings... and he’d felt entitled to a response when he’d suddenly sprung a declaration of love on her, with no warning. He didn’t know that she knew how he felt... and he knew she didn’t like big public spectacles like that.</p><p>“You just... sung? Out of nowhere?”</p><p>“Don’t ask me how or why... I just did it. And... I kicked him out. And now we aren’t speaking.”</p><p>“Max is a nice guy... but he shouldn’t be pulling that on you when you’re this emotionally vulnerable.”</p><p>“I know... I just... he’s my oldest friend. I don’t want to loose him over this... and... I’d be lying if I said I didn’t return his feelings on some level,” Zoey admitted.</p><p>“You’re polyamorous, Zoey... and if you ever are emotionally ready and want to date me- no pressure, by the way, do what you want- if dating other people while you’re dating me will make you happy, I’m okay with it. I just want to know who you’re seeing... not in a creepy way.”</p><p>“I guess... I guess we should talk about what I did, huh?” </p><p>“What’s there to talk about? I’m not mad... truthfully, I should’ve stopped you because I knew deep down that something like this was going on-“</p><p>“But that’s not your responsibility. I’m a grown woman.”</p><p>“You are. And extremely emotionally wrecked. You’re allowed to do dumb things when your dad died. At least to me.”</p><p>“If I’d done that to Max... he would’ve been mad. Honestly... I don’t know why you aren’t, my dad dying isn’t an excuse for me to be an asshole... and I’ve done some assholeish things for no reason lately.”</p><p>“I just... know how it feels. And if you want to talk about the assholeish things you’ve done... this is still a judgement free zone.”</p><p>“Well... I was the SPRQ Point employee who fell into the bay and made the news. My sister in law had just given birth and she was in the hospital because she was hemorrhaging, but at a different hospital... and they called my mom and she didn’t pick up, and she’s my emergency contact, so... and so nobody came while I was in there.”</p><p>“You could have told them to call me... since I’m guessing that’s why you got a new phone?”</p><p>“Yeah... but like, bitch, you expect me to remember your number? I don’t even know my mom’s number... it was just in the system because she’s my emergency contact.”</p><p>Simon laughed. “Touchè... but that must’ve sucked. Why is that an assholeish thing?”</p><p>“Because Max asked why I was gone and I told him that I went out and got drunk for three days... I only told him that I nearly drowned because we got into a fight when I went out with the Brogrammers and got drunk after we finished early... and he got upset at me in the morning after and I got upset at him.”</p><p>“Oh Jesus.”</p><p>Zoey looked down. “That bad, huh?”</p><p>“That’s... I’m being honest with you, that is the <em>dumbest</em> thing to lie about.”</p><p>“I guess... I didn’t want him or anyone else to feel guilty about me being in a hospital, alone, for three days... but mostly my mom. I haven’t told her anything... I told her I was sick and dropped my phone in the bathtub. I’m pretty sure David’s secretly mad for me not being there while Emily was in the hospital.”</p><p>“That sucks... but that’s still the dumbest thing to lie about. If David’s mad... tell him what actually happened. Because there’s no reason for anyone to be mad at you for being in the hospital.”</p><p>“I know... I know.”</p><p>Zoey and Simon just... talked. For hours, even after they were long done with their food, their bowls sat with only residual sauce in them, and they sat at Zoey’s dining room table and just <em>talked</em>. And it felt so good... in some weird way, Zoey was invigorated, pouring her heart out to Simon. And him <em>listening</em>. Certain things she kept under wraps, like her self harming and the full extent of how horrible she felt, but she gave him a window into her soul... just one that was slightly tinted so that he couldn’t see everything.</p><p>When they finally lapsed into silence, Zoey looked over at the clock, and saw that it was already 11:43. </p><p>“Holy cow... that was a good session of... whatever this was.”</p><p>“Talking?” Simon suggested sarcastically.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.”</p><p>But there was one thing they hadn’t settled yet.</p><p>“When I am emotionally ready and stable... I would like to have a romantic relationship with you, Simon. And I would like to have a relationship where I can potentially date other people.”</p><p>He nodded. “I’ll wait for you, Zoey... I’ll wait until we’re old and grey if that’s what you need.”</p><p>And she smiled, because goddamn... he was amazing. He made her feel good, he made her feel warm inside... she could spend the rest of her life with him.</p><p>But...</p><p>“On one condition. You... have to keep getting one on one therapy sessions... and if <em>you</em> aren’t ready for another relationship... then it doesn’t happen.”</p><p>“That’s really two conditions... but they’re ones I can meet for you, Zoey.”</p><p>“Good. Then just... I’m sorry for not being able to be with you right now... and I want you to know that you don’t have to wait for me... you can date someone else.”</p><p>“But I <em>want</em> to wait for you, Zoey. Did I not just say that I’d wait until we were old and grey if it was what you needed?”</p><p>“I know, just... I want you to understand that you don’t have to.”</p><p>Simon reached across the table and took Zoey’s hands in his, gently, and rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumb. “I love you, Zoey... but I don’t even need a romantic relationship with you to love you. I love you no matter what... I want <em>you</em> to understand <em>that.</em>”</p><p>And Zoey nodded, because she was scared she’d start crying if she spoke.</p><p>Before he left, he helped her clean up the dinner stuff, the two of them blissfully and beautifully in sync, washing dishes and putting away leftovers. The kitchen looked just as it was before she’d started cooking when they were done with it (very clean because she’d barely touched it lately), and the dishes all dried and put away.</p><p>Before he left, he hugged her close, told her to call him, any hour of the day, if she needed him, and she nodded into his chest, feeling his arms around her and feeling <em>safe.</em></p><p>The apartment felt almost empty when he was gone.</p><p>It had been... it had been a <em>weird</em> day. Most of it had been spent doing a lot of nothing, and then she spent four hours talking to a man she really fucking loved... and now she was here, alone again.</p><p>Zoey French braided her hair and brushed her teeth and put on socks before crawling into bed, which she’d actually made when she was spiffing up in preparation for Simon getting there. She actually <em>hadn’t</em> been planning to take Simon to bed... she’d felt like making it so her bedroom looked nicer.</p><p>She stared up at her ceiling in the dark, playing replay in her brain with everything she and Simon had talked about.</p><p>The last thing she remembered thinking about was the notion of getting glow in the dark stars for her ceiling, and after that, she was fast asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>my tumblr still happens to be team-zoey-has-two-hands, hit me up!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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